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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT  LOS  ANGELES 


atbeuKum  iPiress  Series 
A   BOOK   OF 

SEVENTEENTH    CENTURY 
LYRICS 


Selected  and  Edited  with  an  Introduction 


FELIX   E.  SCHELLING 

PROFESSOR   OF   ENGLISH    LITERATUKE    IN    THE 
UNIVERSITY   OF    PENNSYLVANIA 


BOSTON,  U.S.A. 
GINN   &   COMPANY,   PUBLISHERS 

1899 


Copyright,  1899 
By  FELIX   E.   SCHELLING 

ALL   RIGHTS   RESERVED 


~pn 


Ssa. 


CO. 


1 121 
3a. 

PREFACE. 


This  book  is  made  up  of  English  lyrics  which  fall  between 
the  years  1625  and  1700.  The  first  quarter  of  the  seven- 
teenth century  is  here  unrepresented,  because  the  lyrical 
poetry,  like  most  other  kinds  of  literature  of  that  period, 
was  produced  under  impulses  and  maintained  by  traditions 
almost  wholly  Elizabethan.  The  method  pursued  in  the 
selection  and  arrangement  of  the  poems  constituting  this 
book  is  much  that  of  the  editor's  Elizabethan  Lyrics.  Some 
poems  have  been  retained,  the  exclusion  of  which  a  stand- 
ard of  the  highest  literary  and  poetic  worth  might  demand. 
This  is  justified  by  a  recognition  of  the  fact  that  a  book  such 
as  this  must  be,  to  a  certain  extent,  historically  representa- 
tive. The  same  requirement  has  prompted  a  rigid  adherence 
to  chronological  order  in  the  arrangement  of  material  and  to 
the  rule  that  no  poem  shall  appear  except  in  its  completeness 
and  in  that  form  in  which  it  may  reasonably  be  supposed  to 
have  had  its  author's  maturest  revision.  The  term  lyric  has 
necessarily  been  interpreted  with  some  liberality  in  the  con- 
sideration of  a  period  which  tended,  towards  its  close,  to  the 
conscious  exercise  of  artifice  and  wit  in  poetry  rather  than 
to  the  spontaneous  expression  of  emotion.  If  Mr.  Henley's 
recent  enunciation  of  the  essential  antithesis  between  the 
lyric  and  the  epigram  is  to  be  accepted  in  its  rigor,  many  of 
the  poems  of  this  collection  must  fall  under  his  ban.-^     And 

^  See  the  Introduction  to  Mr.  Henley's  collection  of  English  Lyrics. 

1781 18 


Vi  PREFACE. 

yet  much  might  be  said  —  were  this  the  place  for  it  —  of  the 
lyrical  quality  which  frequently  accompanies  even  the  cynical 
gallantry  and  coxcombry  of  Suckling,  Sedley,  and  Rochester. 
If  poems  such  as  many  of  theirs  and  of  Dryden's  be  excluded 
from  the  category  of  the  lyric  on  the  score  of  artificiality  or 
insincerity,  they  must  assuredly  be  restored  to  their  place  for 
the  power  of  music  in  them. 

The  poems  in  this  book  have  been  selected,  not  only  from 
the  works  of  the  individual  poets  represented,  but  from  con- 
temporary poetical  miscellanies  and  from  the  incidental  lyr- 
ical verse  contained  in  dramas,  romances,  and  other  works  of 
the  time.  Care  has  been  taken  to  make  the  text  as  correct 
as  possible  by  a  collation  with  authoritative  sources ;  and, 
wherever  necessary,  the  sources  of  preferred  readings  will 
be  found  mentioned  in  the  Notes.  In  the  Introduction  an 
attempt  has  been  made  to  trace  the  course  of  English  lyrical 
poetry  during  the  period,  to  explain  its  relations  to  the  pre- 
vious age,  and  to  trace  the  influences  which  determined  its 
development  and  its  final  change  of  character.  It  is  hoped 
that  the  Notes  and  Indexes  may  furnish  the  reader  with  such 
help  as  he  may  reasonably  demand,  and  encourage  the  stu- 
dent to  a  deeper  study  of  a  rich  and  interesting  period  in 
one  of  its  most  distinctive  forms  of  artistic  expression. 

In  conclusion,  I  wish  to  record  my  recognition  of  a  few 
amongst  many  favors.  My  acknowledgments  are  due  here, 
as  ever,  to  Dr.  Horace  Howard  Furness  for  the  loan  of  books 
and  for  much  kind  encouragement ;  to  Dr.  Clarence  G.  Child, 
especially  amongst  my  colleagues,  for  valuable  suggestions 
and  many  services ;  and  above  all  to  Professor  Kittredge, 
one  of  the  general  editors  of  this  series,  whose  wide  learning 
and  untiring  care  have  been  generously  bestowed  to  better 

this  book. 

FELIX   E.  SCHELLING. 

June  i6,  1899. 


CONTENTS.     . 

PAGES 

Introduction .     ix-lxix 

Seventeenth  Century  Lyrics 1-227 

Notes 229-287 

Index  of  Authors  and  Editors 289-297 

Index  of  First  Lines 299-304 

Index  to  Introduction  and  Notes 305-314 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2008  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/bookofseventeentOOsche 


INTRODUCTION 


THE  ENGLISH  LYRIC  OF  THE  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY.i 

I. 

In  the  Introduction  to  A  Book  of  Elizabethan  Ly?'ics  I 
have  said  that  "  not  the  least  merit  of  EHzabethan  litera- 
ture, defining  both  words  strictly,  is  its  soundness  and  its 
health  ;  its  very  lapses  from  decorum  are  those  of  childhood, 
and  its  extravagances  those  of  youth  and  heated  blood,  both 
as  far  as  possible  removed  from  the  cold  cynicism,  the  doubt 
of  man  and  God,  that  crept  into  England  in  the  train  of 
King  James,  and  came  in  time  to  chill  and  benumb  the 
pulses  of  the  nation."^ 

This  statement  I  believe  to  be  strictly  and  literally  true, 
though  it  may  here  need  some  explanation.  There  was  both 
crime  and  wickedness  in  Elizabeth's  day ;  there  was  virtue 
and  nobility  of  life  in  the  days  of  James.  But  a  cleavage 
between  art  and  morals  had  come  about  early  in  the  seven- 
teenth century,  if  indeed  not  before;  the  Renaissance,  now 
somewhat  spent  and  losing  in  freshness  and  virility,  threw 
off  its  former  alliance  with  the  rude  but  wholesome  ethical 
spirit   which   animated   the   drama  during   the    lifetime    of 

1  The  reader  is  referred  to  the  earlier  paragraphs  of  the  Introduction 
to  the  editor's  A  Book  of  Elizabethan  Lyrics  for  a  general  discussion  of 
the  nature  and  limitations  of  the  term  lyric. 

2  p.  xxxvii. 


X  INTRODUCTION. 

Shakespeare,  and  contracted  from  a  broad  humanitarian 
love  of  art  as  an  imitation  of  the  whole  range  of  human 
action  and  emotion  into  the  narrower,  if  choicer,  spirit  of 
the  dilettante,  whose  taste  in  trifles  is  perfect,  whose  joy  is 
not  a  little  in  the  skill  and  cleverness  of  the  artist,  whose 
range  for  art,  in  a  word,  is  contracted  within  the  limits  of 
good  society.  On  the  other  hand,  the  moral  aspect  of  the 
world  was  not  lost,  although  it  seemed  all  but  lost  to  litera- 
ture for  a  time.  Any  statement  that  the  complex  of  moral, 
religious,  and  political  agencies  which  is  loosely  called  Puri- 
tanism was  an  unmixed  evil  to  literature  is  wide  of  the  truth. 
The  marvellously  rich  devotional  poetry  of  the  period,  a 
poetry  which  knew  no  sect  and  existed  the  common  posses- 
sion of  Romanist,  Churchman,  and  Dissenter,  is  alone  a 
sufficient  refutation  of  such  an  opinion.  Still  that  spirit 
which  translated  the  joys  of  the  world  into  vanities  and 
denounced  the  most  innocent  show  of  human  emotion  as 
the  lust  of  the  flesh  and  the  temptation  of  the  devil  with- 
drew itself  apart  and  lived  alone  in  later  forms  of  Puri- 
tanism, which  became  stern  and  austere,  unmollified  by 
grace  and  unsweetened  with  charity. 

Nothing  could  better  illustrate  the  essential  relation  which 
exists  in  art  between  truth  and  that  typical  presentation  of 
nature  which  we  somewhat  inaccurately  call  beauty,  than 
the  history  of  English  poetry  in  the  seventeenth  century, 
especially  the  history  of  the  lyric,  always  that  form  of  poetry 
most  sensitive  to  the  subtler  influences  of  an  age.  Moreover, 
whatever  fastidious  literary  taste  may  prefer,  the  student  of 
literature  must  beware  of  generalizations  formed  on  anything 
short  of  a  consideration  of  all  the  literary  phenomena  at 
hand.  Perversions  of  art  have  their  lesson  for  the  historian 
of  literature,  and  must  be  considered  if  the  picture  is  to  be 
true.  Thus  we  must  recognize,  not  only  the  rhetorical  and 
"metaphysical"  excesses  of  lesser  and  later  Donnians,  but 


INTR  OD  UC  TION.  xi 

the  extraordinary  stripping  off  of  the  gauds  and  ornaments 
of  poetic  diction  which  marks  the  work  of  Wither  when  he 
leaves  the  praises  of  Fair  Virtue  to  sing  hymns  of  diviner 
praise.  No  less  must  we  take  into  account  that  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  and  artistically  perfect  poems  of  Carew  is 
unquotable  to-day ;  whilst  it  was  not  a  mere  following  of  the 
bad  example  which  his  master,  Jonson,  had  set  him  in  trans- 
lating some  of  the  more  objectionable  epigrams  of  Martial, 
which  has  given  us,  in  Herrick,  a  garden  of  the  Hesperides 
foul  in  places  with  the  filth  of  the  kennel.  These  things 
are  not  wholly  to  be  laid  to  the  score  of  coarse  or  unrestrained 
manners.  The  root  of  the  matter  is  in  this  separation  of  the 
ethical  from  the  aesthetic  principle,  a  separation  which  pro- 
duced in  the  one  case  the  moral,  but  for  the  most  part  unillu- 
mined,  verses  of  Quarles  and  Wither,  and,  in  the  other  (with 
much  that  was  an  aberration  from  both  ethical  and  Eesthetic 
ideals),  the  perfect  Hedonistic  lyrics  of  Carew  and  Herrick, 
which  exist  for  their  beauty  and  for  their  beauty  alone. 

To  consider  the  cult  of  beauty  as  a  new  thing  in  the  poetry 
of  any  period  would  be  as  absurd  as  to  assume,  by  the 
extension  of  a  doctrine  attributed  by  Walter  Bagehot  to 
Ulrici,  a  concealed  and  deadly  moral  purpose  for  each  and 
every  poem  of  the  earlier  age.-^  But  if  we  will  turn  to  the 
poetry  of  Spenser,  Jonson,  Donne,  and  Shakespeare  we  shall 
find  it  informed  with  an  element  of  truth,  whether  half 
concealed  in  allegory,  didactically  paraded,  intellectually 
subtilized,  or  set  forth  in  an  unerring  justness  of  conception 
as  to  the  dramatic  relations  of  men  to  men.  This  we  do 
not  find  in  nearly  an  equal  degree  in  the  poetry  of  the 
succeeding  age,  and  the  ideals  of  such  a  poet  as  Carew  —  to 
take  the  most  successful  of  his  class  —  become  much  the  same 
a«  those  of  the  school  which  in  our  own  day  has  given  rise 
to  the  phrase  "  art  for  art's  sake,"  a  school  accompanying 

1  Shakespeare,  Literary  Studies,  I,  169. 


XU  INTRODUCTION. 

whose  aesthetic  posturings  we  sooner  or  later  behold  the 
cynical  leer  of  satire.      Take  the  following : 

If  when  the  sun  at  noon  displays 

His  brighter  rays, 

Thou  but  appear, 
He  then,  all  pale  with  shame  and  fear, 

Quencheth  his  light. 
Hides  his  dark  brow,  flies  from  thy  sight 

And  grows  more  dim 
Compared  to  thee  than  stars  to  him. 
If  thou  but  show  thy  face  again 
When  darkness  doth  at  midnight  reign, 
The  darkness  flies,  and  light  is  hurled 
Round  about  the  silent  world  : 
So  as  alike  thou  driv'st  away 
Both  light  and  darkness,  night  and  day.^ 

This  is  beautiful  and  fanciful  poetry.  It  is  hyperbolic  to 
a  degree,  so  much  so  that  we  feel  it  to  be  no  more  than 
a  figure  of  gallantry,  the  charming  and  perfectly  expressed 
compliment  of  a  courtly  gentleman  to  a  high-born  and  radiant 
beauty.  In  a  poem  of  this  kind  we  are  not  concerned  with 
the  truth  ;  indeed  the  truth  might  perhaps  spoil  the  effect. 
There  is  nothing  new  in  the  idea,  but  the  artist  has  daintily 
set  it  like  a  gem  in  the  filigree  of  a  carefully  considered 
comparison.  Romeo,  under  the  quickening  influence  of  a 
new  and  all-consuming  passion,  forged  the  same  thought  into 
a  pregnant  metaphor : 

What  light  through  yonder  window  breaks  ? 
It  is  the  east,  and  Juliet  is  the  sun  ! 
Arise,  fair  sun,  and  kill  the  envious  moon, 
Who  is  already  sick  and  pale  with  grief. 
That  thou  her  maid  art  far  more  fair  than  she.- 

1  Poems  of  Thomas  Carew,  reprint  of  ed.  1640,  Edinburgh,  1S24,  p.  8. 

2  ii.  2.  2. 


INTRODUCTION.  xiu 

The  hyperbole  of  Romeo  is  justified  by  the  overwrought 
emotion  of  the  moment ;  it  stirs  in  the  hearer  a  sympathy 
with  the  lover's  passion.  The  hyperbole  of  Carew  is  no  less 
justified,  for  it,  too,  arrives  at  its  purpose,  which  is  no  more 
than  to  amuse.  There  is  about  it,  from  its  very  extravagance, 
a  suspicion  of  delicate  raillery,  which  becomes  certain  when 
the  poet  leaves  us  at  the  end  with  a  charming  paradox.  She 
would  have  been  but  an  unsophisticated  maiden  at  court 
who  could  have  taken  such  a  fine  compliment  from  the  king's 
cupbearer  to  figure  forth  anything  more  than  "  How  pretty 
you  're  looking  this  morning,  my  dear  !  " 

"  The  artifice  and  machinery  of  rhetoric,"  says  De  Quincey, 
"furnishes  in  its  degree  as  legitimate  a  basis  for  intellectual 
pleasure  as  any  other;  that  the  pleasure  is  of  an  inferior 
order,  can  no  more  attaint  the  idea  or  model  of  the  compo- 
sition, than  it  can  impeach  the  excellence  of  an  epigram  that 
it  is  not  a  tragedy.  Every  species  of  composition  is  to  be 
tried  by  its  own  laws."  ^  The  much-vaunted  test  of  com- 
parison, by  which  Byron  set  beside  Keats  or  Shelley  appears 
tawdry  or  uninspired,  is  often  preposterously  misleading. 
There  are  reds  that  "  kill  "  each  other,  though  each  may 
be  beautiful  apart ;  the  mood  in  which  to  read  Horace  may 
not  be  precisely  the  mood  for  Catullus,  In  the  seventeenth 
century  lyric  and  its  overflow  into  the  occasional  verse  of 
the  day  we  have  neither  the  universality  of  Shakespeare, 
the  scope  and  majesty  of  Milton,  nor  the  consummate  con- 
structive, if  conventionalized,  art  of  Dryden  and  Pope ;  and 
yet  there  are  some  of  us  who  feel  that  we  could  no  more 
spare  the  dainty  grace  and  beauty  of  Corinna  'j  Going  A-May- 
ing  than  we  could  endure  to  lose  a  book  of  Paradise  Lost. 
To  critics  of  the  nature  of  William  Hazlitt,  in  those  unlucid 
intervals  in  which  his  prejudices  stood  all  on  end,  such  poets 
as  Carew  or  Suckling  are  "  delicate  court  triflers  "  and  noth- 

1  Rhetoric,  Historical  Essays^  II,  229, 


xiv  IiVTRODUCTION. 

ing  more;  to  those  who  love  the  art  of  an  intaglio  or  the  deli- 
cate  curves  of  a  Grecian  urn,  and  can  admire  either  without 
stricture  that  it  is  not  the  Capitoline  Jupiter,  the  best  of  the 
poetry  of  the  reign  of  Charles  I  seems  to  imply  no  decaying 
school,  but  a  height  of  lyric  excellence  combined  with  an 
exquisite  workmanship  which  only  the  greatest  poets  of  our 
day  or  of  Elizabeth's  have  surpassed. 

In  its  general  characteristics  the  poetry  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  extending  onward  from  the  accession  of  Charles  I, 
is  interisiye  rather  than  expansive,  fanciful  rather  than  imagi- 
native, and  increasingly  restrictive  in  its  range  and  appeal, 
until  it  comes  at  length  to  be  the  utterance  of  a  single  class 
of  society. 

The  period  in  its  earlier  years  was  too  close  to  that 
of  Elizabeth  and  James  not  to  feel  the  strong  pulse  and 
enthusiastic  love  of  beauty  which  was  theirs,  and  the  great 
political  events  that  made  the  seventeenth  one  of  the  most 
momentous  centuries  in  the  history  of  England  kept  men 
from  falling  too  rapidly  into  the  conventionalized  conception 
of  literature  and  life  which  came  to  prevail  in  the  next  cen- 
tury. It  is  precisely  as  we  find  a  poet  rising  above  these 
general  qualities  of  narrow  intensiveness,  fantasticality  of 
thought  and  expression,  and  class  prejudice,  that  we  recog- 
nize in  him  the  special  qualities  that  make  him  great.  The 
aesthetic  Milton,  with  the  rich  blood  of  the  Renaissance 
tingling  in  his  veins,  bursts  forth  in  the  fine  Ode  on  the 
Morning  of  Christ's  Nativity  and  in  the  great  poetry  which 
followed  it.  In  his  later  poetical  period  too,  it  is  his  lofty 
artistic  purpose  and  his  ethical  nobility  which  lift  Milton  out 
of  his  own  time  and  convert  him  into  a  world  poet,  despite 
a  certain  hardness  of  spirit  which  bitter  partizanship  had 
fostered  and  which  could  not  but  grow  out  of  the  warring 
elements  of  his  age  in  a  nature  so  grave  and  stern.  Thus 
again,  a  genuine  love  of  nature  unites  such  diverse  names 


INTRODUCTION.  xv 

as  those  of  Vaughan,  Marvell,  and  Cotton,  the  last  especially 
delighting  in  the  sensuous  enjoyment  of  pleasant  sight  and 
soothing  sound.  In  Marvell  is  added  to  an  artistic  touch 
a  moral  rectitude  that  at  once  dignifies  his  poetry  and  gives 
it  a  distinguished  place  in  literature  ;  whilst  Vaughan,  added 
to  a  religious  fervor  which  he  shares  with  Herbert  and 
Crashaw,  but  in  differing  mode,  displays,  in  his  tenderness 
for  natural  objects,  a  spiritual  contemplativeness  which  every 
now  and  then  flashes  a  revealing  light  upon  the  relation  of 
man  to  the  universe.  Herrick,  in  his  humaneness,  in  his 
artless  delight  in  those  small  things  which  go  so  far  to  make 
up  our  daily  life,  Carew,  in  the  sincerity  of  his  workmanship 
and  in  his  artistic  propriety,  rise  above  the  temporary  con- 
ventions of  a  single  age,  and  become,  each  in  his  own  way, 
poets  fraught  with  a  message  to  following  times. 


II. 

That  the  poets  of  the  reigns  of  James  and  Charles  I  wrote 
under  the  combined  influences  of  Ben  Jonson  and  Donne,  and 
that  the  older  influence  of  Spenser  continued  to  animate  poet 
after  poet,  has  been  repeated  again  and  again,  and  may  be 
accepted  as  substantially  true.  It  seems  well,  under  the 
circumstances,  briefly  to  consider  wherein  these  influences 
really  consisted,  less  in  their  abstract  principles  than  in  the 
manner  in  which  the  ideals  of  each  great  poet  manifested 
themselves  in  his  work,  and  especially  in  their  subsequent 
effects  on  his  followers.  What  may  be  called  the  manner 
of  Spenser  (i.e.,  Spenser's  way  of  imitating  and  interpreting 
nature  artistically  by  means  of  poetic  expression)  may  be 
summarized  as  consisting  of  a  sensuous  love  of  beauty  com- 
bined with  a  power  of  elaborated  pictorial  representation,  a 
use  of  classical  imagery  for  decorative  effect,  a  fondness  for 
melody,  a  flowing  sweetness,  naturalness  and  continuousness 


xvi  INTRODUCTION. 

of  diction  amounting  to  diffuseness  at  times,  the  diffuseness 
of  a  fragrant,  beautiful,  flowering  vine.  We  may  say  of  the 
poets  that  employ  this  manner  that  they  are  worshippers  of 
beauty  rather  than  students  of  beauty's  laws  ;  ornate  in  their 
expression  of  the  type,  dwelling  on  detail  in  thought  and 
image  lovingly  elaborated  and  sweetly  prolonged.  To  such 
artists  it  is  no  matter  if  a  play  have  five  acts  or  twenty-five, 
if  an  epic  ever  come  to  an  end,  or  if  consistency  of  parts 
exist ;  rapt  in  the  joy  of  gentle  onward  motion,  in  the  ele- 
vation of  pure  poetic  thought,  even  the  subject  ceases  to  be 
of  much  import,  if  it  but  furnish  the  channel  in  which  the 
bright,  limpid  liquid  continues  musically  to  flow. 

Besides  his  pastorals,  Drayton  Spenserized  the  enormous 
Polyolbion.  The  Fletchers  followed  with  subjects  theological 
and  anatomical  also  allegorized  after  the  manner  of  Spenser. 
But  the  poetry  of  none  of  these  need  concern  us  here :.  not 
even  the  beautiful  later  pastorals  of  Wither  and  Browne. 
For,  Drayton  aside,  the  last  two  poets  are  the  only  followers 
of  Spenser  who  have  achieved  the  unity  and  repression  of 
a  successful  lyric ;  and  by  the  accession  of  King  Charles, 
Browne  had  ceased  to  write,  and  Wither  had  already  straggled 
off  into  his  innumerable  devotional  pamphlets,  verse  and 
prose,  in  which  were  much  fibre  and  many  tendrils,  but  little 
bloom.  In  the  period  with  which  this  book  is  concerned 
the  direct  influence  of  Spenser  is  chiefly  to  be  found  in 
the  earlier  poetry  of  Milton,  which,  despite  its  remarkable 
originality  and  the  traces  of  other  influences  than  this,  ex- 
hibits in  the  main  the  distinctive  "  notes  "  of  Spenserianism, 
restrained  by  a  chaster  taste  and  by  a  spirit  profoundly 
imbued  with  the  classics. 

As  Milton  is  chief  amongst  the  poets  included  in  this 
book,  it  cannot  be  wide  of  our  purpose  to  stop  in  our  dis- 
cussion to  consider  these  Spenserian  "  notes  "  in  his  earlier 
poetry.     Take  the  following : 


INTRODUCTION.  xvu 

Getiius.     Stay,  gentle  swains,  for,  though  in  this  disguise, 
I  see  bright  honor  sparkle  through  your  eyes ; 
Of  famous  Arcady  ye  are,  and  sprung 
Of  that  renowned  flood,  so  often  sung, 
Divine  Alpheus,  who,  by  secret  sluice, 
Stole  under  seas  to  meet  his  Arethuse  ; 
And  ye,  the  breathing  roses  of  the  wood, 
Fair  silver-buskined  Nymphs,  as  great  and  good. 
I  know  this  quest  of  yours  and  free  intent 
Was  all  in  honor  and  devotion  meant 
To  the  great  mistress  of  yon  princely  shrine. 
Whom  with  low  reverence  I  adore  as  mine. 
And  with  all  helpful  service  will  comply 
To  further  this  night's  glad  solemnity, 
And  lead  ye  where  ye  may  more  near  behold 
What  shallow-searching  Fame  hath  left  untold ; 
Which  I  full  oft,  amidst  these  shades  alone. 
Have  sat  to  wonder  at,  and  gaze  upon. 

This  is  early  work  of  Milton  and  exhibits  nearly  every  one 
of  the  "  notes  "  mentioned  above,  —  sweetness,  melody,  nat- 
uralness, continuousness  in  metre  and  sense,  personification  : 
"  What  shallow-searching  Fame  hath  left  untold  " ;  classical 
allusion  :  Arcady,  Alpheus,  Arethusa,  "  Fair  silver-buskined 
Nymphs."  A  use  of  nature  for  decorative  effect  pervades 
the  whole  passage.  For  pictorial  vividness,  in  which  how- 
ever Milton  never  surpassed  his  master,  we  must  look  to 
other  passages.  A  more  striking  example  of  some  of  these 
qualities  of  Milton's  earlier  poetry  will  be  found  in  the  famous 
song  from  Comus,  Sab rina  fair  (^p.  38,  below,  vv.9-32),  wherein 
we  have  almost  a  complete  list  of  the  ancient  deities  of  the 
sea  from  "great  Oceanus  "  to  "fair  Ligea's  golden  comb." 
Some  of  the  allusions  of  this  song  (e.g.,  "  the  Carpathian  wiz- 
ard's hook  "  y  we  may  suspect  were  not  altogether  luminous 
to  the  casual  reader  of  Milton's  own  day,  despite  his  "  greater 

1  See  note  on  this  passage,  p.  243,  below. 


xviii  INTRODUCTION. 

wont "  in  the  classics.  Milton's  evident  delight  in  passages 
such  as  this  is  made  up  of  two  elements  :  first,  a  sensuous 
love  of  musical  sound,  the  mingled  charm  of  sonorous  classi- 
cal words  and  their  unusual  effect  in  the  contrast  of  their 
English  setting  ;  and,  secondly,  the  scholar's  satisfaction  ■ — • 
pedantic  in  a  lesser  man  —  in  lavishing  his  learning  on 
his  verse  :  for  Milton  possessed  to  the  full  the  scholar's 
consciousness  in  the  practice  of  his  art.  In  view  of  the 
rhetorical  finish  of  Milton's  poetry,  and  the  high  sense  of 
constructiveness  which  informs  his  work  in  even  its  appar- 
ently most  unpremeditated  flights,  especially  in  view  of  the 
carefully  wrought  and  subtly  varied  cadences  of  his  blank 
verse,  I  do  not  feel  certain  that  the  customary  classification 
of  Milton  with  the  poets  of  the  past  age,  rather  than  with 
his  actual  contemporaries,  is  a  classification  wholly  to  be 
justified. 

If  now  we  turn  to  the  poetry  of  Ben  Jonson,  more  espe- 
cially to  his  lyrical  verse,  the  first  thing  that  we  note  is  a 
sense  of  form,  not  merely  in  detail  and  transition  like  the 
"  links  .  . .  bright  and  even  "  of  The  Faery  Queen,  but  a  sense 
of  the  entire  poem  in  its  relation  to  its  parts.  This  sense 
involves  brevity  and  condensity  of  expression,  a  feeling  on 
the  part  of  the  poet  that  the  effect  maybe  spoiled  by  a  word 
too  much  —  a  feeling  which  no  true  Spenserian  ever  knew. 
There  is  about  this  poetry  a  sense  of  finish  rather  than  of 
elaboration  ;  it  is  less  continuous  than  complete  ;  more  con- 
centrated, less  diffuse ;  chaste  rather  than  florid  ;  controlled, 
and  yet  not  always  less  spontaneous  ;  reserved,  and  yet  not 
always  less  natural.  There  are  other  things  to  note  in  the 
Jonsonian  manner.  It  retained  classical  allusion  less  for  the 
sake  of  embellishment  than  as  an  atmosphere  —  to  borrow 
a  term  from  the  nomenclature  of  art.  Its  drafts  upon  ancient 
mythology  become  allusive,  and  the  effects  produced  by  Hor- 
ace, Catullus,  or  Anacreon  are  essayed  in  reproduction  under 


INTR  OD  UC  TION.  xix 

English  conditions.  Not  less  eager  in  the  pursuit  of  beauty 
than  the  Spenserian,  the  manner  of  Jonson  seeks  to  realize 
her  perfections  by  means  of  constructive  excellence,  not  by 
entranced  passion.  It  concerns  itself  with  choiceness  in 
diction,  selectiveness  in  style,  with  the  repression  of  wander- 
ing ideas  and  loosely  conceived  figures  —  in  a  word,  the 
manner  of  Jonson  involves  classicality. 

Into  the  nature  of  the  poetry  of  Donne  I  need  not  enter 
at  length  here.  It  is  sufficient  for  our  purposes  to  remember 
that  the  tokens  of  the  presence  of  Donne  consist  in  an  exces- 
sive subjectivity  that  involves  at  times  all  but  a  total  oblivion 
to  the  forms  of  the  outward,  visible  world ;  a  disregard  of 
the  tried  and  coavpntinnpl  ini^gery  and  classi.cal  reference 
of  the  day,  and  the  substitution  for  it  of  images  of  abstrac- 
tion derived  from  contemporary  philosophy  and  science  ;  an 
habitual  transmutation  of  emotion  into  terms  of  the  intellect ; 
and  an  analytic  presentation  and  handling  of  theme,  involv- 
ing great  rhetorical,  and  at  times  dialectic  skill.  To  these 
qualities  must  be  added  a  successful  inventive  ingenuity  in 
the  device  of  metrical  effects,  which  despised  tradition  ;  and, 
most  important  of  all,  a  power  in  dealing  with  the  abstract 
relations  of  things  which  raises  Donne,  in  his  possession  of 
the  rare  quality,  poetic  insight,  at  times  to  a  poet  of  the  first 
order. 

Thus  we  find  Spenser  and  Jonson  standing  as  exponents, 
respectively,  of  the  expansive  or  romantic  movement  and  the 
repressive  or  classical  spirit.  In  a  different  line  of  distinc- 
tion Donne  is  equally  in  contrast  with  Spenser,  as  the  inten- 
sive or  subjective  artist.  Both  are  romanticists,  in  that  each 
seeks  to  produce  the  effect  demanded  of  art  by  means  of  an 
appeal  to  the  sense  of  novelty  ;  but  Spenser's  romanticism  is 
that  of  selection,  which  chooses  from  the  outer  world  the 
fitting  and  the  pleasing  and  constructs  it  into  a  permanent 
artistic  joy;   Donne's  is   the  romanticism  of  insight,  which, 


XX  INTRODUCTION. 

looking  inward,  descries  the  subtle  relations  of  things  and 
transfigures  them  with  a  sudden  and  unexpected  flood  of 
light.  Between  Jonson  and  Donne  there  is  the  kinship 
of  intellectuality ;  between  Spenser  and  Donne  the  kinship 
of  romanticism  ;  between  Spenser  and  Jonson  the  kinship  of 
the  poet's  joy  in  beauty.  Spenser  is  the  most  objective,  and 
therefore  allegorical  and  at  times  mystical;  Jonson  is  the 
most  artistic,  and  therefore  the  most  logical ;  Donne  is  the 
most  subjective  and  the  most  spiritual. 


III. 

In  the  year  1625  many  traces  of  the  poetry  of  the  last  cen- 
tury remained,  especially  in  the  lyric.  The  impetus  which 
had  been  given  by  Lyly  and  Shakespeare  to  the  writing  of 
lyrical  verse  to  be  set  to  music  in  the  incidental  songs  of  the 
drama  continued  in  the  dramatists  Dekker,  Fletcher,  Mas- 
singer,  and  Jonson  himself.  All  carried  on  their  own  earlier 
practice.  Ford  and  Shirley  following.  These  last  two  poets 
have  left  lyrics  scarcely  less  beautiful  than  the  best  of  the 
earlier  age ;  whilst  not  a  few  of  the  minor  playwrights, 
Thomas  May,  Thomas  Goffe,  Richard  Brome,  Thomas  Ran- 
dolph, even  Aurelian  Townsend,  have  reached  distinction  in 
individual  instances.  The  popularity  of  song  books  contin- 
ued throughout  the  century,  but  we  have  no  work  in  this  field 
approaching  the  poetry  of  Campion.  The  general  character 
of  collections  such  as  his,  which  offered  original  words  with 
original  music,  was  maintained  in  the  various  works  of  Wil- 
son, Henry  and  William  Lawes,  Lanier,  Playford,  D'Urfey, 
and  many  others.  The  poetical  miscellany  held  its  popu- 
larity in  collections  of  very  mixed  quality,  from  sacred  or 
secular  lyrical  poetry  to  the  satirical  broadside  or  book  of 
jests  and  coarse  epigrams.  Some  of  these  books  contain 
gleanings  from  the  best  poets  of  the  day,  but  the  general 


INTR  OD  UC  TION.  xxi 

quality  of  the  lyrical  poetry  therein  is  far  inferior  to  similar 
productions  in  the  preceding  reigns,  as  the  popular  taste  had 
turned  from  sentiment  and  poetry  to  the  wit  and  ribaldry  of 
the  tavern.^ 

At  the  accession  of  Charles,  Ben  Jonson  had  twelve  years 
yet  to  live ;  and,  although  his  best  work  was  now  done,  his 
position  as  the  great  literary  dictator,  with  the  added  sanc- 
tion of  court  patronage,  produced  a  powerful  effect  upon  the 
imaginations  of  scholarly  and  courtly  young  men.  Poets  and 
dramatists  spoke  of  themselves  as  "  sons  of  Ben,"  delight- 
ing in  his  society  while  he  lived,  and  honoring  his  memory 
when  he  died.  Six  months  after  his  death  a  volume  appeared, 
entitled  Joiisonits  Virbins,  in  which  peers  and  commons,  bish- 
ops and  laymen  united  to  celebrate  in  verses  English,  Latin, 
and  Greek,  the  greatness  of  the  deceased  laureate,  and  to 
express  the  esteem  and  veneration  in  which  they  held  him 
as  a  man.^  English  literature  knows  no  other  such  tribute  ; 
it  is  above  many  monuments.  Let  us  glance  at  the  contrib- 
utors to  Jonsonus  Virbius,  for  among  them  are  some  of  the 
most  characteristic,  if  not  the  greatest,  of  the  "sons  of  Ben." 
First  is  the  amiable  and  accomplished  Lucius  Carey,  Lord 
Falkland,  in  bravery,  courtesy,  loyalty,  all  but  literature  — 
although  a  graceful  poet  —  the  Sidney  of  his  age  ;  next,  the 
genial  and  kindly  Henry  King,  later  Bishop  of  Chichester, 
author  of  the  best  lines  of  the  volume ;   Thomas  May,  Shak- 

1  The  quantity  of  this  "  literature  "  is  very  great,  and  much  of  it  has 
little  but  an  historical  and  social  value.  One  of  the  most  characteristic 
collections  is  IVit's  Recreations,  first  published  in  1641,  and  going  through 
nearly  a  dozen  editions  before  the  close  of  the  century.  Other  miscel- 
lanies were  Wit  Restored,  Wit  and  Drollery,  The  Loyal  Garland,  The 
Muses'  Recreation.  The  song  books  of  the  period  begin  with  Hilton's 
Book  of  Airs,  1627,  and  extend  through  innumerable  songs,  airs,  and 
dialogues  to  Dr.   Purcell's   Collection  of  Airs,  1697. 

"^  fons 071115  Virbius  is  reprinted  in  the  collected  editions  of  Jonson 
by  Whalley,  Gifford,  and  Cunningham. 


xxii  INTRODUCTION. 

erley  Marmion,  Jasper  Mayne,  and  William  Cartwright,  all 
dramatists  of  repute,  some  of  them  writing  into  Restoration 
times,  the  last  a  consummate  master  of  panegyric  and  a 
lyric  and  elegiac  poet  after  the  manner  of  his  other  master, 
Donne.  James  Howell,  the  author  of  the  charming  Epistolac 
Ho-Elianae.,  long  intimate  with  Jonson,  contributes  a  few 
lines ;  as  do  John  Clieveland,  the  trenchant  loyalist  satirist ; 
Sir  John  Beaumont,  cousin  of  the  dramatist,  a  poet  chiefly 
by  kinship  ;  Habington,  author  of  Castara  ;  and  Buckhurst, 
descendant  of  the  author  of  Gorboduc,  and  father  of  Charles 
Sackville,  Earl  of  Dorset,  the  courtly  poet  of  the  next  reign. 
John  Ford,  the  great  dramatist,  writes  as  an  equal,  not  as 
a  "  son  ";  and  last  comes  Edmund  Waller,  whose  contact  with 
earlier  poetry  is  generally  forgotten  in  the  fact  that  he  is  the 
historical  link  between  the  lyric  of  Jonson  and  that  of  the 
Restoration.  Shirley,  the  last  illustrious  name  of  the  old 
drama,  does  not  appear ;  although  a  friend  of  Ford,  he  was 
probably  without  the  charmed  circle.  Neither  Herrick  nor 
Carew  contribute,  though  the  former,  certainly  a  veritable 
"son,"  as  several  of  his  poems  attest,  was  now  a  recluse  in 
"loathed  Devonshire";  whilst  Carew,  an  older  man,  whose 
occasional  verses  show  close  intimacy  with  Jonson,  was  to 
survive  but  two  years. ^ 

If  now  we  look  into  the  contents  of  a  volume  of  one 
of  these  "sons  of  Ben,"  we  shall  find  that  he  has  followed 
his  master  alike  in  the  diversity  and  in  the  limitations  of  his 
art.  He  may  give  a  greater  preponderance  to  one  species 
of  verse,  but  he  tries  all  —  drama,  the  poetical  epistle,  epi- 
gram, lyric  song  and  ode,  commendatory  verse,  prologue  and 
epilogue.  The  sonnets,  pastorals,  and  madrigals  of  the  past 
age  have  been  superseded,  despite  the  fact  that  Habington 

1  Cf.  Herrick's  two  epigrams  on  Jonson,  his  Prayer  to  him,  and  his 
Ode:  ed.  Grosart,  II,  78,  79,  185;  III,  11.  See  also  Carew's  To  Ben 
Jonson,  ed.  Hazlitt,  p.  84. 


INTRODUCTION.  xxiii 

may  throw  his  verses  into  a  kind  of  irregular  sequence  and 
Hmit  some  of  his  poems  to  fourteen  lines,  and  although 
Herrick  may  invent  a  new  and  dainty  pastoral  mode  of  his  own 
by  a  fresh  return  to  nature.^  It  is  notable  that  few  of  these 
writers  of  the  days  of  Charles  are  men  of  both  tongues  like 
Greene,  Dekker,  or  Heywood,  who  wrote  verse  and  prose,  and 
even  mingled  them  at  times  in  one  work.  Moreover,  not  one 
of  these  writers  was  a  literary  man  in  the  sense  which  Jonson 
exemplified,  unless  we  except  Howell  and  Davenant.  Falk- 
land, Habington,  Carew,  Randolph,  and  Waller  were  courtiers ; 
Cartwright,  Herrick,  and  King  clergymen  ;  Herbert  was  suc- 
cessively both.  Most  of  those  who  survived  to  the  civil  wars 
sided  with  the  king  or  fought  for  him  ;  not  a  few  fell  in  his 
cause. 

But  if  these  writers  are  the  professed  "  sons  of  Ben  "  and 
inherited  his  love  of  form,  his  fondness  for  learning  well 
displayed,  and  at  times  his  didacticism  and  heavy  satirical 
hand,  they  inherited  also,  each  after  his  capacity,  many  of 
the  idiosyncrasies  of  Donne,  their  other  master ;  and  the 
idiosyncrasies  of  Donne  are  precisely  those  which  are  the 
most  dangerous  in  the  hands  of  mediocrity.  It  was  thus 
that  Donne's  extraordinary  originality  in  the  invention  and 
ap.plication  .of  figure  —  a  power  which,  it  is  frankly  to  be 
confessed,  he  often  used  tastelessly  and  irresponsibly  — 
became  the  source  of  Cartwright's  lapses  from  good  taste, 
Crashaw's  confusion,  and  Cowley's  irregularity  of  thought, 
and  the  all  but  universal  search  after  '  conceit '  and  far- 
fetched imagery.  Thus  it  was  that  Donne's  lordly  contempt 
for  mere  form  came  to  be  made  accountable  for  the  slovenly 
and  clumsy  carelessness  of  metre  and  sense  which  mars  the 
work  of  such  poets  as  Suckling  and  makes  the  verse  of 
Lovelace,  except  for  some  half-dozen  lyrics,  unreadable. 

In  the  contemplation  of  such  aberrations  as  these,  and  in 

^  Cf.  Cori>ina  'j  Going  A-Maying,  below,  p.  lo. 


XXIV  INTRODUCTION. 

the  midst  of  a  complete  triumph  of  principles  diametrically 
opposed  to  the  romantic  ideals  which  had  begot  this  freedom 
and  excess,  it  was  to  be  expected  that  the  critics  of  the  next 
century  should  do  injustice  to  the  past.  Severe  and  con- 
demnatory, flippantly  patronizing  or  weakly  apologetic  —  such 
is  the  attitude  of  these  and  even  of  later  critics  as  to  Donne 
and  his  imitators.  Rarely  has  criticism  passed  beyond  the 
lines  so  carefully  and  so  perversely  drawn  by  Dr.  Samuel 
Johnson  in  his  famous  passage  on  the  "  metaphysical  poets  " 
in  his  life  of  Cowley.  As  this  subject  is  of  prime  importance 
in  any  discussion  of  the  poetry  of  the  seventeenth  century, 
no  apology  need  be  offered  for  quoting  once  more  the  familiar 
words  of  Dr.  Johnson. 

"  The  metaphysical  poets  were  men  of  learning,  and  to 
show  their  learning  was  their  whole  endeavor  :  but,  unluckily 
resolving  to  show  it  in  rhyme,  instead  of  writing  poetry  they 
only  wrote  verses,  and  very  often  such  verses  as  stood  the 
trial  of  the  finger  better  than  of  the  ear ;  for  the  modulation 
was  so  imperfect  that  they  were  only  found  to  be  verses  by 
counting  the  syllables. 

"  If  the  father  of  criticism  has  rightly  denominated  poetry 
rvjiyt]  fxifjirfTtKr],  an  imitative  art,  these  writers  will,  without 
great  wrong,  lose  their  right  to  the  name  of  poets  ;  for  they 
cannot  be  said  to  have  imitated  anything :  they  neither 
copied  nature  nor  life  ;  neither  painted  the  forms  of  matter 
nor  represented  the  operations  of  the  intellect. 

"  Those  however  who  deny  them  to  be  poets,  allow  them 
to  be  wits.  Dryden  confesses  of  himself  and  his  contempo- 
raries, that  they  fall  below  Donne  in  wit;  but  maintains, 
that  they  surpass  him  in  poetry."^ 

This  famous  deliverance  is  a  glaring  instance  of  that 
species  of  criticism  which  is  worked  up  out  of  the  critical 
dicta  of  others,  a  mystery  not  wholly  confined  to  Dr.  Johnson 
^  Lives  of  the  English  Poets,  Cowley,  ed.  Tauchnitz,  I,  1 1. 


INTRODUCTION.  XXV 

nor  to  his  age.  If  now  we  turn  to  Dryden's  Discourse  con- 
cerning the  Original  a?id  Progress  of  Satire,^  we  shall  find 
the  following  passage  addressed  to  the  Earl  of  Dorset  and 
concerned  mainly  with  a  eulogy  of  the  poetry  of  that  noble 
author. 

"  There  is  more  salt  in  all  your  verses,  than  I  have  seen 
in  any  of  the  moderns,  or  even  of  the  ancients;  but  you 
have  been  sparing  of  the  gall,  by  which  means  you  have 
pleased  all  readers,  and  offended  none.  Donne  alone,  of  all 
our  countrymen,  had  your  talent ;  but  was  not  happy  enough 
to  arrive  at  your  versification;  and  were  he  translated  into 
numbers,  and  English,  he  would  yet  be  wanting  in  the 
dignity  of  expression.  .  .  .  You  equal  Donne  in  the  variety, 
multiplicity,  and  choice  of  thoughts  ;  you  excel  him  in  the 
manner  and  the  words.  I  read  you  both  with  the  same 
admiration,  but  not  with  the  same  delight.  He  affects  the 
?nefap/iysics,  not  only  in  his  satires,  but  in  his  amourous 
verses ;  and  perplexes  the  minds  of  the  fair  sex  with  nice 
speculations  of  philosophy,  when  he  should  engage  their 
hearts  and  entertain  them  with  the  softness  of  love.  In  this 
(if  I  may  be  pardoned  for  so  bold  a  truth)  Mr.  Cowley  has 
copied  him  to  a  fault."  ^ 

Several  things  are  to  be  remarked  on  this  passage  :  (i)  that 
Donne  is  only  mentioned  incidentally,  the  main  purpose 
being  the  encomium  upon  the  satire  of  the  noble  and  now 
forgotten  lord ;  (2)  that  the  discussion  is  confined  to  satire, 
although  a  side  reference  is  made  to  Donne's  amorous  verse, 
and  Cowley  is  charged  with  imitating  these  products  of 
Donne;  (3)  that  Donne  is  praised  for  "variety,  multiplicity, 
and  choiceness  of  thought";  (4)  that  he  is  said  to  be 
"wanting  in  dignity  of  expression"  and  "in  manner  and 

1  This  essay  was  originally  prefixed  to  the  translation  of  Juvenal  (ed. 
Scott-Saintsbury,  XII,  1-123).  See  also  Professor  Hales'  introductory 
note  to  Donne  in  Ward's  English  Poets,  I,  558.  "  Ibid.,  p.  6. 


xxvi  INTR  OD  UC  TION. 

words  " ;  (5)  that  he  needs  translation  "  into  numbers  and 
English";  and  (6)  that  he  affects  the  metaphysics  in  his 
amorous  verse,  where  nature  only  should  reign.  Here  it 
was  then  that  Dr.  Johnson  obtained  the  suggestion  of  link- 
ing the  names  of  Donne  and  Cowley  and  the  specific  dic- 
tum which  he  extended  to  all  their  work  ;  here  it  was  that 
he  found  the  word  "metaphysical,"  which  he  liberally  en- 
larged by  inference  to  include  most  of  the  poets  of  the 
reigns  of  James  I  and  his  son  who  differed  in  manner  from 
Dryden  and  Waller.  From  the  same  passage  Pope  and 
Parnell  derived  the  idea  of  translating  "  into  numbers  and 
English  "  the  satires  of  Donne ;  and  the  only  thing  which 
the  critics  of  the  next  age  omitted  was  the  "  variety,  multi- 
plicity, and  choice  of  thoughts,"  which  even  the  master  of 
the  rival  school,  who  had  read  though  he  had  not  studied 
Donne,  could  not  deny  him.  This  is  not  the  place  in  which 
to  follow  subsequent  criticism  of  "  the  metaphysical  poets." 
It  is  based  almost  wholly  on  Dr.  Johnson's  dictum,  and  in- 
volves the  same  sweeping  generalizations  of  undoubtedly 
salient  defects  into  typical  qualities  and  the  same  want  of 
a  reference  of  these  defects  to  their  real  sources.^ 

Other  terms  have  been  used  to  express  the  obliquity  of 
thought  —  if  I  may  so  employ  the  word  —  which  is  peculiar 
to  Donne  and  his  school.  Such  is  the  adjective  'fantastic,' 
from  the  excessive  play  of  images  of  the  fancy  which  these 
poets  permit  themselves.  This  is  less  happy  than  Dryden's 
'metaphysical,'  to  which  a  real  value  attaches  in  that  it 
singles  out  the  unquestioned  fondness  of  these  writers  for 
'  conceits '  drawn  from  the  sciences  and  from  speculative 

1  In  another  place  (the  Dedication  to  Elconora,  ed.  Scott- Saintsbury, 
XI,  123)  Dryden  designated  Donne  "the  greatest  wit,  though  not  the 
best  poet  of  our  nation."  Here  again  Johnson  found  a  cue  for  his 
famous  discussion  of  wit,  which  follows  the  last  paragraph  of  the 
passage  quoted  above. 


INTRODUCTION.  xxvu 

philosophy.  Pe  Quincey  proposed  the  word  '  rhetorical,' 
with  a  characteristic  refinement  restricting  its  meaning  to 
the  sense  in  which  "  rhetoric  lays  the  principal  stress  on  the 
management  of  thoughts  and  only  a  secondary  one  upon 
the  ornaments  of  style."  ^  This  has  the  merit  of  recognizing 
the  dialectical  address  and  the  constructive  design  and 
ingenuity  which  were  Donne's  and  Carew's,  though  by  no 
means  equally  Cowley's.  When  all  has  been  said,  we  must 
recognize  that  none  of  these  terms  fully  explains  the  complex 
conditions  of  the  lyric  of  this  age. 

Special  characteristics  aside,  there  is  no  more  distinctive 
mark  of  the  poetry  of  this  age  than  the  all  but  universal 
practice  of  '  conceit.'  By  Jonson  and  Bacon  this  word 
was  employed  for  the  thing  conceived,  the  thought,  the 
image.  It  was  likewise  employed,  however,  in  the  significa- 
tion, more  current  later,  of  a  thought  far-fetched  and  ingen- 
ious rather  than  natural  and  obvious.  That  the  '  conceit '  in 
this  latter  sense  was  no  stranger  to  the  verse  and  prose  of 
the  reign  of  Elizabeth  is  attested  by  innumerable  examples 
from  the  days  of  Sidney  to  those  of  Donne. ^ 

Thus  Gascoigne,  with  a  more  vivid  consciousness  of  the 
persistence  of  hackneyed  poetical  figure  than  is  usual 
amongst  minor  poets,  declares  :  "  If  I  should  undertake  to 
wryte  in  prayse  of  a  gentlewoman,  I  would  neither  praise 
hir  christal  eye,  nor  hir  cherrie  lippe,  etc.  For  these  things 
are  trita  et  obvia.  But  I  would  either  find  some  supernatu- 
ral! cause  whereby  my  penne  might  walke  in  the  superlative 

1  Historical  Essays,  American  ed.  1S56,  II,  228,  229. 

2  Murray  (Dictionary,  s.v.)  quotes  Puttenham  (ed.  Arber,  p.  20)  for 
an  early  use  of  this  word  :  "  Others  of  a  more  fine  and  pleasaunt  head 
...  in  short  poemes  uttered  prettie  merry  conceits,  and  these  men 
were  called  Epigrammatists."  Sidney  (according  to  Dr.  C.  G.  Child) 
is  the  earliest  English  poet  to  exhibit  the  conceit  as  a  distinctive 
feature   of  style. 


xxviii  INTRODUCTION. 

degree,  or  else  ...  I  would  .  .  .  make  a  strange  discourse 
of  some  intollerable  passion,  or  finde  occasion  to  pleade 
by  the  example  of  some  historic,  or  discover  my  disquiet  in 
shadows  per  Allcgoriam,  or  use  the  covertest  meane  that  I 
could  to  avoyde  the  uncomely  customes  of  common  writers."  ^ 
That  this  species  of  wit  became  more  and  more  popular 
as  the  reign  of  James  advanced  is  explained  by  the  general 
decline  from  imagination  to  fancy  which  marks  the  trend  of 
the  whole  age,  and  which  came  in  time  to  ascribe  a  false 
dignity  and  importance  to  keenness  and  readiness  in  the 
discovery  of  accidental  and  even  trivial  similarities  in  things 
unlike.  The  gradations  of  the  word  '  wit '  range  from  inge- 
niiim,  insight,  mental  power,  to  the  snap  of  the  toy  cracker 
denominated  a  pun.  Wit  may  consist  in  the  thought  and 
the  wisdom  thereof  or  in  the  merest  accident  of  sound  or  form. 
The  genuine  Caroline  '  conceit '  is  mostly  in  the  fibre  of  the 
thought,  and,  unlike  the  antithetical  wit  of  the  next  age,  is, 
as  a  rule,  unaided  by  structural  or  rhetorical  device.  Thus 
Cowley  says  of  those  who  carved  the  wooden  images  for 
the  temple  of  Jerusalem : 

[They]  carve  the  trunks  and  breathing  shapes  bestow. 
Giving  the  trees  more  life  than  when  they  grow^  ; 

and   Clieveland   asks,  apropos  of  the   possibility  of  a  bee's 
stinging  his   mistress  : 

What  wasp  would  prove 
Ravaillac  to  my  queen  of  love  ?  ^ 

1  With  the  foreign  sources  of  the  Elizabethan  and  Jacobean  conceit 
we  cannot  be  here  concerned.  See  on  this  subject  the  forthcoming 
monograph  of  Dr.  Clarence  G.  Child  on  T/te  Seventeenth  Cettttay  Con- 
ceit, shortly  to  appear  in  the  Publications  of  the  Modern  Language 
Association  of  America. 

-  The  Davideis,  ii.  528,  529. 

2  Clievclandi  Vindiciae,  ed.  1677,  p.  4. 


IN  TROD  UC  TION.  xxix 

On  the  other  hand,  the  balanced  form  of  wit  appears  in 
Dryden's  words  of  Doeg: 

A  double  noose  thou  on  thy  neck  dost  pull 
For  writing  treason  and  for  writing  duU.^ 

Of   like  nature   is  the   diamond  cross  on   the  bosom  of 
Pope's  Belinda, 

Which  Jews  might  kiss,  and  infidels  adore. ^ 

Even  where  epigrammatic  point  is  not  demanded,  ideas 
so  shape   themselves: 

By  music  minds  an  equal  temper  know 
Nor  swell  too  high  nor  sink  too  low.^ 

Either  form  of  wit  may  flash  a  revealing  light  and  rise  from 
the  range  of  fancy,  which  plays  with  similitudes  because 
they  are  pleasing,  to  the  domain  of  the  imagination,  which 
adds  the  sanction  and  dignity  of  truth.  That  form  of  wit 
which  depends  more  on  thought  and  less  on  the  accident 
of  expression  is  more  likely  to  become  imaginative  and 
revealing.  To  deny,  however,  that  form  enters  essentially 
into  all  successful  art  is  to  fall  into  vagary.  The  illustra- 
tions above  are  all  dependent  upon  fancy ;  Cowley's  is 
ingenious,  Clieveland's  forced,  Dryden's  and  Pope's  epi- 
grammatic, Pope's  last  commonplace,  unnecessary,  and 
redundant.  Vaughan's  famed  figure  of  the  first  stanza  of 
The    World,  which   can  never  be  too   often  quoted,   is  an 

1  Absalom  and  Acliitophel,  Part  II,  496. 

2  Rape  of  the  Lock,  canto  ii. 

^  Pope,  Ode  on  Saint  Cecilia'' s  Day. 


XXX  INTRODUCTION. 

instance  of  a  '  conceit '  dilated  by  its  dignity  to  imaginative 
sublimity  and  power : 

I  saw  Eternity  the  other  night 

Like  a  ring  of  pure  and  endless  light, 

All  calm  as  it  was  bright ; 
And  round  beneath  it,  Time  in  hours,  days,  years 

Driven  by  the  spheres. 
Like  a  vast  shadow  moved,  in  which  the  world 

And  all  her  train  were  hurled.^ 

It  is  an  error  to  regard  the  Caroline  conceit  as  wholly  refer- 
able to  Donne's  irresponsible  use  of  figure.  It  is  neither  so 
limited  and  abstract  in  the  range  of  phenomena  chosen  for 
figurative  illustration,  so  unconcerned  with  the  recognition 
of  the  outward  world,  nor  so  completely  referable  to  the  intel- 
lectualiz.ation  of  emotion.     Let  us  take  a  typical  passage  of 

Donne  : 

But,  O,  alas  !  so  long,  so  far 

Our  bodies  why  do  we  forbear? 
They  are  ours,  though  not  we  ;  we  are 

The  intelligences,  they  the  spheres  ; 
We  owe  them  thanks,  because  they  thus 

Did  us  to  us  at  first  convey, 
Yielded  their  senses'  force  to  us. 

Nor  are  dross  to  us  but  alloy. 
On  man  heaven's  influence  works  not  so, 

But  that  it  first  imprints  the  air  ; 
For  soul  into  the  soul  may  flow 

Though  it  to  body  first  repair.^ 

This  passage  is  subtle,  almost  dialectic.  A  keen,  sinuous, 
reasoning  mind  is  playing  with  its  powers.  Except  for  the 
implied  personification  of  the  body  regarded  apart  from  the 
soul,  the  language  is  free  from  figure  ;   there  is  no  confusion 

1  See  the  whole  poem,  below,  p.  145. 
=2  The  Ecstasy,  ed.  1650,  p.  43. 


INTRODUCTION.  XXXI 

of  thought.  There  is  the  distinctively  Donnian  employment 
of  ideas  derived  from  physical  and  speculative  science  :  the 
body  is  the  '  sphere '  or  superficies  which  includes  within  it 
the  soul,  a  term  of  the  old  astro-philosophy ;  the  body 
is  not  'dross'  but  an  'alloy,'  alchemical  terms;  the  'in- 
fluence '  of  heaven  is  the  use  of  that  word  in  an  astro- 
logical sense,  meaning  "  the  radiation  of  power  from  the 
stars  in  certain  positions  or  collections  affecting  human 
actions  and  destinies  ";  and  lastly,  the  phrase  "imprints  the 
air  "  involves  an  idea  of  the  old  philosophy,  by  which  "  sen- 
suous perception  is  explained  by  effluxes  of  atoms  from  the 
things  perceived  whereby  images  are  produced  ('  imprinted  ') 
which  strike  our  senses."  Donne  subtly  transfers  this  purely 
physical  conception  to  the  transference  of  divine  influences.^ 
On  the  other  hand,  take  this,  the  one  flagging  stanza  of 
Crashaw's  otherwise  noble  Hymn  of  the  Nativity.  The  Vir- 
gin is  spoken  of,  and  represented  with  the  Child,  who  is 
addressed  by  the  poet  : 

She  sings  thy  tears  asleep,  and  dips 

Her  kisses  in  thy  weeping  eye ; 
She  spreads  the  red  leaves  of  thy  lips, 

That  in  their  buds  yet  blushing  lie. 
She  'gainst  those  mother  diamonds  tries 
The  points  of  her  young  eagle's  eyes.- 

This  diiificult  passage  may  perhaps  be  thus  explained  :  the 
Virgin  sings  to  her  babe  until,  falling  asleep,  his  tears  cease 
to  flow.  "And  dips  her  kisses  in  thy  weeping  eye,"  she 
kisses  lightly  his  eyes,  suffused  with  tears.  Here  the  light- 
ness of  the  kiss  and  the  over-brimming  fullness  of  the  eyes 
suggest  the  hyperbole  and  the  implied  metaphor,  which 
likens  the  kiss  to  something  lightly  dipped  into  a  stream. 

^  See  Ueberweg's  History  of  Philosophy,  I,  71. 
2  See  below,  p.  113. 


INTR  on  UC  TION. 


"She  spreads  the  red  leaves  of  thy  lips,"  i.e.,  kisses  the 
child's  lips,  which  lie  lightly  apart  in  infantile  sleep,  and 
which  are  like  rosebuds  in  their  color  and  in  their  childish 
undevelopment.  "  Mother  diamonds  "  are  the  eyes  of  the 
Virgin,  bright  as  diamonds  and  resembling  those  of  the  child. 
"  Points  "  are  the  rays  or  beams  of  the  eye,  which,  accord- 
ing to  the  old  physics,  passed,  in  vision,  from  one  eye  to 
another.  Lastly,  the  eyes  of  the  child  are  likened  to  those 
of  a  young  eagle,  and  the  Virgin  tests  them  against  her  own 
as  the  mother  eagle  is  supposed  to  test  her  nestling's  eyes 
against  the  sun. 

Leaving  out  the  figure  involved  in  'points,'  which  is  Don- 
nian  and  probably  wholly  due  to  the  fashion  set  by  him,  this 
passage  of  Crashaw  is  inspired,  not  by  the  intellect,  which 
clears  and  distinguishes  objects,  but  by  passion,  which  blends 
and  confuses  them.  The  language  is  one  mass  of  involved 
and  tangled  figure,  in  which  similarity  suggests  similarity 
in  objects  contemplated  and  intensely  visualized  —  not  in 
abstractions  incapable  of  visualization.  Donne  fetches  his 
images  from  the  byways  of  mediaeval  science  and  metaphysic 
and  intellectualizes  them  in  the  process.  Crashaw  derives 
his  imagery  from  the  impetus  of  his  feelings  and  from  an 
intense  visualization  of  the  outer  world,  which  causes  him  to 
revel  in  light,  color,  motion,  and  space.  He  at  times  con- 
fuses his  images  in  a  pregnancy  of  thought  that  involves  a 
partial  obscuration  of  the  thing  to  be  figured.  These  two 
methods  are  at  the  very  poles  from  each  other,  and  in- 
capable of  derivation,  the  one  from  the  other.  But  if  the 
difficulties  of  Donne  are  largely  due  to  subtlety  of  thought, 
and  those  of  Crashaw  to  impetus  of  feeling,  the  figures  of  the 
lesser  poets  may  often  be  referred  to  a  striving  after  original 
effect,  an  ingenious  pursuit  of  similitudes  in  things  repug- 
nant, that  amounts  to  a  notorious  vice  of  style.  The  books 
are  full  of  illustrations  of  this  false  taste,  and  it  is  easy  to 


INTR  on  UC  TION.  xxxu  i 

find  them  in  the  verse  of  Quarles,  Cartwright,  Crashaw,  Love- 
lace, and  Davenant;  even  in  Carew,  Herbert,  and  Vaughan. 
Cowley,  who  has  been  much  abused  on  this  score,  but  who 
is  often  a  true  poet,  gives  us  this  typical  instance  of  the 
hunted  conceit,  on  that  eternal  quibble  of  the  amorists, 
"  My  true  love  hath  my  heart  and  I  have  his  " : 

So  much  thyself  does  in  me  live, 

That  when  it  for  thyself  I  give, 
'T  is  but  to  change  that  piece  of  gold  for  this. 

Whose  stamp  and  value  equal  is. 

Yet,  lest  the  weight  be  counted  bad. 
My  soul  and  body,  two  grains  more,  I  '11  add.^ 

With  all  the  lapses  into  bad  taste  and  extravagance  to 
which  the  passion  for  '  conceit '  led,  and  notwithstanding  a 
frank  confession  that  the  verse  of  amateur  poets  like  Love- 
lace and  Suckling  is  often  so  wantonly  careless  and  slovenly 
that  it  becomes  not  only  unpoetical  and  unliterary  but,  in 
places,  all  but  absolutely  unintelligible,  a  sense  of  construc- 
tiveness  none  the  less  distinguishes  much  of  the  poetry 
of  this  age.  It  is  this  that  De  Quincey  recognizes  in  the  term 
'  rhetorical '  noticed  above.  From  its  source  in  the  absorp- 
tion of  classical  theories  and  ideas,  whether  consciously  and 
directly,  as  with  Jonson  himself,  or  indirectly,  as  with  many 
of  his  followers,  I  have  ventured  to  call  this  quality  of  the 
seventeenth  century  poetry  its  assimilative  classicism.  This 
term  may  be  more  clearly  apprehended  in  the  contrast  which 
exists  between  it  and  the  empirical  classicism  of  Spenser 
and  Sidney,  which  consisted  almost  entirely  in  imitation  and 
experiment  with  the  superficialities  of  classic  allusion  and 
versification.  Not  less  distinguishable  is  the  assimilative 
classicism  of  Jonson  and  his  followers  from  the  restrictive 
and,  in  some  respects,  pseudo-classicism  of  the  age  of  Anne, 
1  The  Bargain,  from  The  Mistress,  Cowley,  ed.  Grosart,  I,  112. 


xxxiv  INTRODUCTION. 

although  the  former  led  the  way  to  those  restraints  of  form 
in  design  and  in  expression  that  came  ultimately  to  work  a 
revolution  in  English  poetry.  If  we  will  examine  a  success- 
ful lyric  of  Carew,  Herrick,  or  Waller,  we  shall  often  find  its 
success  to  consist  in  an  orderly  and  skilful  presentation  of 
material,  in  a  minute  attention  to  the  weight  and  value  of 
words  and  the  proper  placing  of  them,  whilst  controlling  all 
is  an  ever-present  and  wholesome  sense  of  design. 


IV. 

Thomas  Carew  and  Robert  Herrick  are  so  important  in 
themselves,  and,  though  in  many  respects  strikingly  in  con- 
trast, so  typical  of  the  secular  lyric  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury at  its  best,  that  this  subject  cannot  be  better  treated 
than  in  a  brief  consideration  of  these  two  poets.  The  fol- 
lowing are  some  of  the  qualities  which  Carew  and  Herrick 
possess  in  common.  With  natures  versatile,  but  neither  deep 
nor  passionate,  both  are  equally  devoid  of  the  didactic  fibre 
of  Jonson  and  of  the  spiritual  depth  of  Donne.  The  sincere 
and  beautiful  religious  lyrics  of  Herrick  form  but  a  fraction  of 
his  poetical  work  and  not  the  part  for  which  he  is  most  dis- 
tinguished. As  to  Carew,  he  thus  expresses  his  relation  to 
"  sacred  verses  "  in  his  Epistle  to  George  Sandys^: 

I  press  not  to  the  ^hoir,  nor  dare  I  greet 
The  holy  place  with  my  unhallowed  feet ; 
My  unwashed  Muse  pollutes  not  things  divine, 
Nor  mingles  her  profaner  notes  with  thine  ; 
Here  humbly  at  the  porch  she  stays, 
And  with  glad  ears  sucks  in  thy  sacred  lays. 

Both  of  these  poets   are   artists,   the  eye  faithfully  on  the 
subject,  with  a  sense  of  design  before  them  and  a  genuine 

1  On  his  T7-anslation  of  the  Psalms,  ed.  Carew,  1825,  p.  116. 


INTRODUCTION.  xxxv 

fidelity  to  that  '  nature  '  which  serves  them  for  theme.  This 
all  will  grant  Herrick,  for  his  flowers  and  fair  maids  are 
'  nature  '  in  the  sense  employed  by  every  one.  But  Carew 
also  can  compass  '  nature '  in  this  narrower  sense  and  sing 
charmingly  of  the  quickening  approach  of  spring,  which 

wakes  in  hollow  tree 
The  drowsy  cuckoo  and  the  humble  bee.^ 

Nor  is  he  less  true  to  nature  when  he  gives  us  —  as  he  does 
often  in  his  wise  and  graceful  occasional  verses  —  a  glimpse 
of  loftier  ideals.-  These  poets  are  English,  like  their  mas- 
ters, Jonson  and  Donne,  and  entirely  free  from  Italianism. 
Their  classicism  sits  easily  upon  them,  especially  that  of 
Carew,  and  is  the  classicism  of  men  of  the  world,  informing 
their  style  and  illuminating  their  thoughts,  not  cumbering 
them  with  unnecessary  learning.  Carew  is  more  prone  to 
the  use  of  '  conceit '  than  Herrick ;  but  in  both  good  taste, 
artistically  speaking,  prevents  an  excessive  use  of  intellec- 
tualized  imagery.  Both  poets  are,  for  the  same  reason, 
remarkably  equal,  rarely  allowing  inferior  work  to  see  the 
light.  In  neither  poet  is  there  the  slightest  use  of  allegory 
or  anything  in  the  nature  of  mysticism.  Each  lives  on  the 
earth,  content  to  enjoy  the  good  things  thereof,  to  regret  the 
fleetness  of  time  and  the  fragility  of  beauty,  but  ready  to 
seize  the  day  and  revel  in  its  pleasures.  Lastly,  both  are 
consummate  stylists  in  construction,  ordering  of  thought, 
choice  and  placing  of  words,  and  nicety  of  versification. 

If  we  turn  to  the  points  of  difference,  a  great  contrast  at 
once  appears  in  the  lives  of  these  two  poets.  Carew  was 
from  early  manhood  one  of  the  accepted  wits  of  the  court, 

1  See  p.  63,  below. 

-  See  Carew's  ideal  man,  To  the  Countess  of  Anglesy,  ed.  Carew, 
1S25,  p.  87,  vv.  41  ff.,  and  contrast  with  Herrick's  His  Cavalier,  ed. 
Grosart,  I,  51. 


XXXVl  INTRODUCTIOX. 

living  in  the  heart  of  the  best  society,  in  daily  attendance 
upon  the  king.  He  had  but  to  open  his  lips  to  be  appre- 
ciated and  applauded,  and  his  poetry  was  produced,  not  for 
the  world,  but  for  the  inner  circle  of  the  best  society  of  Eng- 
land. His  occasional  verses  are  few,  and  well  chosen  as  to 
dedicatees  :  to  majesty,  to  the  Lord  Chief  Justice  of  England, 
to  peers  and  peeresses;  of  poets,  to  Donne,  to  Jon'son, 
Sandys,  and  the  contemporary  laureate,  Davenant ;  to  some 
few  courtly  friends;  to  many  fair  ladies,  whose  anonymity  is 
becomingly  preserved  from  the  prying  scrutiny  of  the  outside 
world  in  initials  and  pseudonymes.  Herrick,  on  the  other 
hand,  banished  from  the  society  of  the  wits  which  he  loved, 
forced  into  retirement  for  the  sake  of  a  livelihood,  enjoyed 
the  compensation  of  a  closer  association  with  nature.  His 
poetry  was  written  for  his  own  pleasure  and  that  of  a  few 
friends  who  loved  the  work  for  the  man's  sake.  Herrick 
was  nearly  sixty  before  The  Hesperides  was  printed,  and  the 
volume  made  no  great  stir,  nor  is  likely  to  have  done  so  even 
had  it  appeared  in  more  propitious  times.  His  occasional 
verse  contains  lines  to  royalty,  addressed  from  afar,  but  ex- 
hibits no  familiarity  with  '  great  ones.'  His  dedicatees  are 
the  small  country  gentry,  that  sound,  wholesome  stock  which 
maintained  the  honesty  and  purity  of  English  blood  when 
the  court  had  become  a  veritable  plague  spot  and  threatened 
the  life  of  the  nation. 

With  such  contrasted  environments  as  these  acting  upon 
temperaments  susceptible  in  each  case,  we  must  expect  con- 
trasted results  even  within  the  well-defined  limits  of  this 
species  of  lyric.  In  Herrick  we  have  the  elasticity  and  free- 
dom that  come  with  the  breath  of  open  air,  a  greater  open- 
ness and  geniality  of  disposition.  His  range  of  subject,  so 
charmingly  set  forth  in  The  Argument  to  his  Book,  begins 
with  "brooks  and  blossoms,  birds  and  bowers,"  and  ends 
with  heaven.     Between  lie  many  things  —  the  seasons,  coun- 


INTRODUCTION.  xxxvii 

try  mirth,  "  cleanly  wantonness,"  "  the  court  of  Queen  Mab 
and  the  Fairy  King."  Considering  only  Carew's  most  char- 
acteristic lyrics,  we  may  say  that  his  range  is  contained  in  a 
corner  of  this  spacious  garden  of  Herrick.  In  Carew  the 
view  of  life  is  narrower,  more  conventional ;  there  is  greater 
repression,  but  more  civility,  more  elegance  and  polish.  De- 
spite occasional  touches  of  truth  in  the  observation  of  nature, 
we  find  a  use  of  natural  objects  for  decorative  effect  and  a 
frequent  employment  of  metaphor  which  applies  the  work  of 
man  to  illustrate  nature/  Carew  knows  nothing  of  "country 
glee  "  or  fairyland,  and  better  appreciates  the  cold  brilliancy 
of  diamonds  than  the  blush  of  "July-flowers,"  the  odors  of 
spicery  than  the  "  essences  of  jessamine."  Yet,  granting 
this  limitation,  which  is  the  more  apparent  if  we  consider 
Herrick's  charming  folklore  or  "  paganism  of  the  country 
side,"  his  prevailing  eroticism  draws  him  near  to  Carew; 
whilst  the  touches  of  a  wider  experience  in  his  occasional 
poetry  disclose  unrealized  possibilities  in  Carew. 

In  nothing  is  the  difference  between  these  poets  so  plainly 
set  forth  as  in  what  may  be  called  their  temper.  Herrick 
is  genial,  naif.,  playful  at  times;  there  is  a^pontaneousness 
about  him,  a  sincerity  that  disarms  criticism.  Take  this 
characteristic  little   poem,    To  his  Conscietice : 

Can  I  not  sin,  but  thou  wilt  be 

My  private  prothonotary  ? 

Can  I  not  woo  thee  to  pass  by 

A  short  and  sweet  iniquity  ? 

I  'II  cast  a  mist,  a  cloud  upon 

My  delicate  transgression. 

So  utter  dark,  as  that  no  eye 

Shall  see  the  hugged  impiety : 

Gifts  blind  the  wise,  and  bribes  do  please, 

1  Cf.  The  Spri7ig,  p.  63  of  this  volume,  vv.  2,  3.  See  also  Herrick's 
The  Primrose,  and  Carew's  To  the  New  Year. 


xxxviii  INTRODUCTION. 

And  wind  all  other  witnesses  ; 

And  wilt  not  thou  with  gold  be  tied 

To  lay  thy  pen  and  ink  aside  ? 

That  in  the  mirk  and  tongueless  night, 

Wanton  I  may,  and  thou  not  write  ? 

It  will  not  be  :   and  therefore,  now, 

Yox  times  to  come,  I  "11  make  this  vow, 

From  aberrations  to  live  free  ; 

So  I  '11  not  fear  the  Judge  and  thee.^ 

There  is  no  lack  of  clear  vision  here  ;  yet  who  believes  in  the 
seriousness  of  this  pretty  repentance  ?  This  '  vow '  is  of 
the  same  nature  as  his  vows  to  Apollo,  Bacchus,  or  Venus  : 

Make  her  this  day  smile  on  me 
And  I  '11  roses  give  to  thee.^ 

In  a  word,  the  engaging  temper  of  a  man  not  wholly  impec- 
cable, nor  seeking  to  have  you  believe  that  he  is,  shines 
forth- — a  man  of  kindly  heart,  much  beloved  by  his  parish- 
ioners, charitable,  simple,  unostentatious,  loving  mirth  and 
playful  gallantry,  not  a  stranger  to  the  cup  or  to  full-blooded 
life,  hating  the  unlovely,  and  writing  horrid  epigrams  on  what 
he  detested,  measured  by  his  detestation ;  shrinking  some- 
what from  deeper  thoughts,  from  an  omnipresent  dread  of 
death,  the  mortal  antipathy  of  every  true  Hedonist. 

The  temper  of  Carew  was  greatly  in  contrast  with  this. 
Evidently  a  man  of  few  friends,  of  much  reserve,  there  was 
in  him  more  inward  fire  than  might  have  been  supposed 
under  his  perfect  control.  Carew  was  a  man  altogether 
sophisticate,  never  to  be  carried  away  into  portrayal  of  self ; 
of  pointed  and  polished  wit,  and  a  gentleman  in  the  use  of 
it ;  a  master  in  the  arch  and  wilfully  perverse  hyperbole  of 
compliment ;  but  neither  satirist  nor  cynic,  from  the  feeling 

^  A'oble  Numbers,  ed.  Grosart,  III,  147. 
-  Ilesferides,  ibid.  52. 


introduction:  xxxix 

that  satire  and  cynicism  withdraw  a  man  from  that  easy 
contact  with  his  fellows  in  which  good  society  consists,  a  con- 
tact the  essence  of  which  is  a  graceful  waiving  of  the  dis- 
tinctions of  rank  in  the  midst  of  an  ever-present  sense  of 
their  existence. 

If  we  consider  what  are  the  characteristics  which  mark 
the  variety  of  poetry  called  vers  de  societe,  we  shall  find  them 
to  consist  largely  in  the  following  :  the  recognition  of  man 
living  in  a  highly  organized  state  of  society  as  a  fitting  theme 
for  poetry,  the  making  of  the  conventions  of  social  life  into 
a  subject  for  art  which  may  involve  as  faithful  realism  as 
the  imitation  of  any  other  phase  of  nature.  It  is  only  the 
man  who  knows  this  phase  of  life  from  within  who  can  truly 
depict  it  ;  not  because  it  is  superior  to  other  life,  but  because 
it  is  broken  up  into  a  greater  number  of  facets,  each  reflect- 
ing its  own  little  picture.  Defining  7'ers  de  societe,  then,  as 
an  attempt  to  produce  the  effect  demanded  of  poetry  from 
the  materials  existing  in  the  highly  organized  status  of  culti- 
vated life,  we  may  expect  to  find  this  species  of  poetry  wher- 
ever such  life  exists,  and  in  England  it  came  to  exist  in  its 
perfection  in  the  reign  of  King  James.  The  earlier  age  was 
too  much  engrossed  with  great  ideas ;  it  was  too  expansive, 
and  hence  too  little  intent  on  what  was  near.  Vers  de  societk 
demands  self-control,  at  times  daring,  ease  and  elegance  of 
manner,  delicacy  of  touch,  wit,  an  entire  absence  of  pedantry, 
perfection  of  form  and  of  finish.  Carew  has  all  this.  He  has 
even  much  of  the  French  gaiete  and  esprit,  while  preserving 
with  his  English  spirit  a  remarkable  originality  on  an  instru- 
ment of  such  limited  scale. 

Herrick,  too,  wrote  verse  of  this  class,  but  he  wrote  more 
and  better  on  other  themes.  It  is  not  strange,  considering 
the  environment  of  each  of  these  poets  and  their  differing 
success  in  reaching  their  contemporary  public,  that  Herrick 
should  have   affected  his   successors  far  less  than  Carew. 


xl  '  INTRODUCTION. 

Carew  was  in  the  direct  line  of  development  from  the  assimi- 
lative classicism  of  Ben  Jonson  to  the  restrictive  classicism 
of  Edmund  Waller;  Herrick  was  without  the  range  of  that 
course  of  development,  territorially  and  artistically.  He  was 
really  above  it.  And  yet  Herrick  was  not  without  his  later 
kindred,  less  by  direct  influence  than  by  the  common  bond 
that  unites  all  true  poets  in  the  love  of  nature  and  of  man. 
Andrew  Marvell  and  Charles  Cotton  both  breathe  the  fresh 
country  air  that  Herrick  so  loved.  But  it  is  doubtful  if  either 
owes  much  directly  to  Herrick  ;  it  is  certain  that  Cotton  owes 
much  to  Carew. 

The  complex  poetical  relations  of  Waller  must  be  deferred 
to  a  later  consideration.  It  is  sufficient  to  notice  here  that 
while  he  owes  most  to  Carew  in  the  thought  and  manner  of 
his  lyrics,  as  Pope  long  since  pointed  out,^  Waller  did  not 
disdain  to  borrow  an  occasional  thought  from  the  less-known 
vicar  of  Dean  Prior.  In  a  late  edition  of  Wifs  Recreations, 
a.  miscellany  made  up  of  an  indiscriminate  garnering  of 
fragments,  some  good,  some  very  bad,  from  poets  of  past  and 
contemporary  repute,  three  poems  on  the  rose  appear  side 
by  side.  Two  of  them  are  by  Waller,  one  the  famed  Ga, 
lovely  Rose,  the  other,  probably  the  original,  is  by  Herrick.- 
The  idea  of  another  of  Waller's  most  highly  praised  lyrics, 
On  a  Girdle,  will  also  be  found  paralleled  in  Herrick's 
Upon  Julia's  Ribband.  Here  is  the  same  familiar  thought 
as  treated  in  the  manner  of  three  differing  schools.  Her- 
rick says  in  simple  affirmation  ; 

Nay  't  is  the  zonulet  of  love, 
Wherein  all  pleasures  of  the  world  are  wove.^ 

1  Cf .  a  rough  draft  of  a  Discourse  on  the  Rise  and  Progress  of  English 
Poetry,  Riverside  ed.,  Pope,  I,  civ. 

2  See  p.  125  and  the  note  thereon. 

3  Ed.  Hale,  p.  20. 


INTRODUCTION.  xli 

The  language  is  direct,  the  idea  fancifully  but  tastefully 
treated ;  the  poet  employs  an  unusual  and  musical  word, 
'zonulet,'  and  his  versification  is  free  but  artistic. 

Give  me  but  what  this  ribband  bound, 
Take  all  the  rest  the  world  goes  round !  ^ 

cries  Waller  in  rhetorical  exclamation,  reducing  fancy  to 
sense,  avoiding  unusual  poetical  words,  but  practising  a 
verse  of  perfect  regularity.  Lastly  Clieveland  contorts  the 
thought    into    a    conceit,  far-fetched    and    unpoetical,    and 

asks : 

Is  not  the  universe  strait-laced 
When  I  can  clasp  it  in  a  waist  ?  ^ 

Returning  to  Herrick  and  Carew,  both  of  these  poets 
habitually  form  their  poems  into  a  completed  organism,  and 
both  possess  a  diction  simple,  pure,  and  of  limpid  clearness. 
To  say  a  thing  directly  is  apparently  so  easy  a  matter  that 
poets  like  these  are  sometimes  treated  with  contempt  as  men 
who  have  done  trifling  things  within  the  power  of  any  one. 
In  truth,  simplicity  of  style,  as  illuminating  and  intangible  as 
the  light  of  day,  is  the  latest  grace  vouchsafed  to  the  consci- 
entious artist.     Take  this  of  Herrick: 

A  funeral  stone 

Or  verse,  I  covet  none  ; 

But  only  crave 
Of  you  that  I  may  have 
A  sacred  laurel  springing  from  my  grave ; 

Which  being  seen 
Blest  with  perpetual  green 

May  grow  to  be 
Not  so  much  called  a  tree 
As  the  eternal  monument  of  me. 

1  Below,  p.  124. 

2  Clievelandi  Vitidiciae,  1677,   '^^'^^  Senses^  Festival,  p.  6. 


xlii  INTRODUCTION. 

Aside  from  the  beautiful  and  becoming  sentiment,  notice 
the  direct  flow  of  the  words,  each  in  its  natural  place  and 
order.  The  only  inversion  is  in  the  first  clause,  where  it 
becomes  organic  and  adds  to  the  effect.  Notice  the  beauty 
of  the  phrasing,  which,  with  a  recurrence  of  rhyme  not  always 
at  the  phrase's  end,  giyes  us  a  dainty  variety  in  unity.  'None,' 
an  emphatic  word  from  its  position  at  the  end  of  the  clause, 
becomes  doubly  so  by  the  rhyme  and  the  weight  attaching 
to  an  end-stopped  line.  The  same  is  true  of  'grave,'  which 
is  still  further  reinforced  in  emphasis  by  the  fact  that  it  is 
the  third  rhyme  on  the  same  sound.  Note,  too,  how  the  dif- 
ference in  the  grammatical  relations  of  the  rhyme-words  adds 
to  the  elements  making  for  variety.  The  whole  poem  is  one 
sentence,  and  there  is  no  other  collocation  of  the  clauses 
which  is  at  once  so  natural  and  so  artistic  as  this. 

Carew  is  the  latest  poet,  until  the  coming  of  Keats,  to 
preserve  the  Elizabethan  secret  of  handling  English  trochaic 
octosyllabics  ;  whilst  the  fertility  and  inventiveness  of  Herrick 
in  lyrical  form  are  rivalled  only  by  Lodge,  Shakespeare,  and 
Campion  in  the  preceding  age.  Very  few  of  Herrick's  met- 
rical experiments  fall  short  of  perfect  success,  and  his  man- 
agement of  the  more  usual  metres  of  his  time  is  always 
masterly  and  often  supremely  original. 


V. 

Since  the  days  of  the  venerable  Bede  and  his  beautiful 
story  of  the  divine  call  to  a  poetic  mission  given  to  Ca5dmon, 
English  poets  have  paid  their  tithe  and  more  to  the  celebra- 
tion of  religious  subjects,  whether  in  translation,  paraphrase, 
or  in  the  expression  of  their  own  religious  emotions.  By  the 
unerring  instinct  that  makes  the  artist  of  one  age  the  kin 
of  all  artists  to  come,  poets  have  been  especially  attracted 
to  that  union  of  genuine  devotion  with  the  highest  form  of 


INTRODUCTION.  xliii 

lyrical  expression,  the  Psalms  of  David. ^  If  we  leave  para- 
phrase, which  extended  to  nearly  all  the  noble  stories  of 
the  Old  Testament  and  to  many  of  the  New,  reaching  its  cli- 
max in  the  divine  epic  of  Paradise  Lost.,  we  shall  find  this 
religious  spirit  often  communicated,  even  in  otherwise  origi- 
nal poetry,  in  the  very  terms  of  Biblical  style  and  phrase  ; 
but,  despite  this,  preserving  in  the  product  a  tone  and  sanc- 
tion above  mediocrity  of  thought  or  unoriginality  of  diction. 
"It  would  not  be  easy  to  find  a  sonnet  in  any  language," 
says  the  late  Mark  Pattison,  "of  equal  power  to  vibrate 
through  all  the  fibres  of  feeling  with  sonnet  xix.  Avenge,  O 
Lord,  thy  slaughtered  innoeents.  The  new  and  nobler  purpose 
to  which  Milton  puts  the  sonnet  is  here  in  its  splendor:  'In 
his  hand  the  thing  became  a  trumpet  whence  he  blew  soul- 
animating  strains.'  Yet  with  what  homely  material  is  the 
effect  produced  !  Not  only  is  there  not  a  single  purple  patch 
in  the  wording,  but  of  thought,  or  image,  all  that  there  is  is 
a  borrowed  thought,  and  one  repeatedly  borrowed,  viz.,  Ter- 
tuUian's  saying,  'The  blood  of  the  martyrs  is  the  seed  of  the 
Church.'  It  would  not  be  impossible,  but  it  would  be  sacri- 
lege to  point  to  distinct  faults  in  this  famous  piece ;  yet  we 
may  say  that  with  a  familiar  quotation  for  its  only  thought 
and  with  diction  almost  below  the  ordinary,  its  thoughtful 
flood  of  suppressed  passion  sweeps  along  the  hackneyed 
Biblical  phrases  of  which  it  is  composed,  just  as  a  swollen 
river  rolls  before  it  the  worn  pebbles  long  ago  brought  down 
from  the  mountain-side.  From  this  sonnet  we  may  learn 
that  the  poetry  of  a  poem  is  lodged  somewhere  else  than  in 
its  matter  or  its  thoughts,  or  its  imagery,  or  its  words.  Our 
heart  is  here  taken  by  storm,  but  not  by  any  of  these  things. 

1  Wyatt,  Surry,  Sternhold,  Hopkins,  and  Parker  all  paraphrased 
some  of  the  Psalms  before  Elizabeth's  accession ;  Gascoigne,  Sidney,  and 
Bacon  —  to  mention  only  the  chief  names  —  in  her  reign ;  Milton,  Bishop 
King,  and  Sandys  later. 


xliv  INTRODUCTION. 

The  poet  hath  breathed  on  us,  and  we  have  received  his 
inspiration.  In  this  sonnet  is  realized  Wordsworth's  defi- 
nition of  Poetry :  '  The  spontaneous  overflow  of  powerful 
feeling.' "  ^ 

We  have  here  the  secret  of  the  greater  diversity  of  opinion 
which  exists  in  critical  estimates  of  certain  "  divine  poets  " 
as  compared  with  our  current  estimates  of  their  profaner 
brethren.  It  is  not  granted  to  every  one  to  be  at  all  times 
in  the  mood  in  which  the  sincerity  of  the  devotional  poet  can 
awaken  a  responsive  chord.  The  greatest  of  poets  can  com- 
pel this  response  most  generally,  and  therein  lies  much  of 
their  power ;  those  less  great  often  fail,  not  so  much  because 
of  their  own  defects  as  because  the  music  which  they  offer 
falls  upon  deaf  ears,  or  upon  ears  deadened  and  ringing  with 
the  din  of  things  wherein  is  neither  poetry  nor  life. 

It  might  be  hard  to  find  two  devotional  poets  whose 
artistic  ideals  were  more  widely  at  variance  with  those  of 
to-day  than  Francis  Quarles  and  George  Wither.  Their 
ethical  purpose,  though  worthy  of  praise  as  an  ethical  pur- 
pose, is  paraded  in  a  manner  so  foreign  to  our  pretence  of 
concealment  in  such  matters  that  it  is  difficult  for  us  fairly  to 
appreciate  their  achievement.  Yet  to  have  given  solace  and 
moral  support  to  thousands  of  their  fellow-countrymen  —  for 
these  men  were  read  and  reread,  Quarles  in  innumerable 
editions,  like  Tupper  in  the  days  of  our  fathers  —  to  have 
given  this  solace  with  that  modicum  of  literary  buoyancy 
which  was  sufficient  to  float  the  moralizing,  the  didacticism, 
and  other  heavy  matters  in  the  somewhat  dense  medium 
for  which  it  was  intended  ^ — all  this  is  surely  no  trifle.  The 
flippancy  of  thought  into  which  a  figure  may  betray  one 
cannot  diminish  the  historical  importance  of  such  writers, 
although  it  may  well  remain  a  question  how  far  the  applica- 

1  The  Sonnets  of  Milton,  Introduction,  pp.  58-60  ;  and  see  the  sonnet, 
below,  p.  167. 


INTRODUCTION.  xlv 

tion  of  poetry  of  any  species  to  specific  needs  and  occasions 
may  take  it  out  of  the  category  of  fine  art. 

If  the  reader  will  consider  the  practice  of  devotional  poetry 
in  the  sixteenth  century  as  contrasted  with  the  practice  of  it 
in  the  age  under  consideration,  he  will  discover  several  points 
of  interest.  If  we  except  such  an  enthusiastic  devotee  as 
Father  Southwell/  few  poets  of  the  earlier  age  were  so 
undividedly  devotional  in  their  themes  as  were  Quarles, 
Herbert,  Sandys,  Crashaw,  and  Vaughan.  Nor  is  this  unex- 
plainable :  the  earlier  age  had  been  much  taken  up  with  the 
world  and  its  beauties  ;  the  new  age  was  taken  up  with 
the  world  and  its  vanities.  It  was  no  part  of  Anglican 
Catholicism  to  quarrel  with  what  was  beautiful  in  the  world. 
It  was  regarded  as  in  the  spirit  of  worship  to  use  and  enjoy 
what  has  been  granted  us  for  use  and  enjoyment.  Far 
different  is  it  in  an  age  in  which  the  deep  self-questionings 
of  Puritanism  have  discovered,  or  thought  that  they  have 
discovered,  deception,  vanity,  and  idleness  in  the  shows  of 
the  world.  The  cleavage  between  the  aesthetic  and  the 
ethical  view  of  the  purpose  of  literature  is  complete,  and  the 
poets  no  longer  write,  as  did  Spenser,  hymns  to  earthly  and 
to  heavenly  love  and  beauty,  bound  together  in  one  volume, 
but  devote  themselves  solely  to  the  celebration  of  one  or  the 
other,  as  did  Carew  and  Herbert,  or  poignantly  regret  the 
earthly  leanings  of  their  earlier  Muses,  as  did  Wither  and 
Vaughan. 

The  earlier  poets,  too,  seemed  at  times  to  write  devotional 
verse  as  a  sort  of  duty,  like  going  to  church,  the  proper 
thing  to  do.  This  continued,  and  we  feel  that  Herrick  — 
poor  pagan  that  he  was  —  hardly  wrote  some  of  his  prayers 
to  God  with  the  same  naturalness  and  abandon  with  which 
he   addressed   Juno,  Venus,  or  Apollo.     The  latter  was  a 

1  Sahit  Peter's  Complaint  and  Maeoniae  were  both  published  in  the 
year  of  Southwell's  death,  1595. 


xlvi  INTRODUCTION. 

thing  to  sport  with  and  no  danger ;  on  the  best  authority 
there  were  no  such  personages  as  these  statuesque,  delight- 
ful old  pagan  gods,  —  would  that  there  were  !  The  former 
was  a  very  different  affair;  like  the  wearing  of  Sunday 
clothes,  a  serious  matter,  and  not  to  be  done  lightly  or 
altogether  comfortably,  except  for  a  sustaining  sense  of 
decorum.  Greatly  in  contrast  is  the  beautiful  and  spiritually 
devoted  feeling  of  Herbert,  a  man  who  humbly  and  devoutly 
held  his  poetical  gift  in  trust  that  he  might  therewith  do  the 
will  of  God.  Izaak  Walton's  touching  account  of  Herbert's 
delivery  of  the  manuscript  of  his  book  of  poetry,  The  Temple, 
almost  upon  his  death  bed  cannot  be  too  often  quoted:  "  He 
did  with  so  sweet  a  humility  as  seemed  to  exalt  him,  bow 
down  to  Mr.  Duncan,  and  with  a  thoughtful  and  contented 
look,  say  to  him  :  '  Sir,  O  pray  deliver  this  little  book  to  my 
dear  brother,  Farrar,  and  tell  him  he  shall  find  in  it  a  picture 
of  the  many  spiritual  conflicts  that  have  passed  twixt  God 
and  my  soul,  before  I  could  subject  mine  to  the  will  of 
Jesus,  my  Master,  in  whose  service  I  have  now  found  perfect 
freedom  ;  desire  him  to  read  it,  and  then,  if  he  can  think  it 
may  turn  to  the  advantage  of  any  dejected  poor  soul,  let  it 
be  made  public ;  if  not,  let  him  burn  it,  for  I  and  it  are  the 
least  of  God's  mercies.'  "  ^ 

Notwithstanding  the  richness  and  variety  of  the  religious 
and  moral  poetry  that  dignifies  the  age  of  Elizabeth,  the 
devotional  poetry  of  the  reign  of  Charles  gained  in  fervor 
and  depth  of  thought.  We  cannot  say  that  it  retained  that 
finish  and  sense  of  artistic  design  which  continued  longer  to 
pervade  secular  poetry.  The  devotional  poet  has  his  eye 
almost  wholly  upon  the  subject,  and  the  very  spontaneity  of 
his  emotions  hurries  him  on  —  if  he  be  less  than  the  greatest 
—  to  the  facile  verbosity  of  Wither,  the  metrical  lapses  of 
Quarles,  or  the  ruggedness  and  defective  execution  of 
1  Walton's  lives,  Herbert,  ed.  Morley,  p.  277. 


INTRODUCTION.  xlvii 

Vaughan.  In  a  man  like  Milton  the  artistic  instinct  on  the 
other  hand  is  so  strong  that  sincerity  of  workmanship 
becomes  the  feature  of  his  very  worship.  To  praise  God 
with  less  than  the  perfection  of  man's  power  is  impiety,  and 
even  the  fervor  of  passion  must  fall  within  the  controlling  reg- 
ulations of  all  human  activity.  Thus  it  is  that  in  the  self-con- 
tained and  at  times  to  us  somewhat  cold  and  austere  Miltonic 
poetry,  we  have  really  a  higher  form  of  worship  in  art  than 
we  get  from  didactic  Wither,  saintlike  Herbert,  or  rapturous 
Crashaw.  In  Milton  we  have  the  adoration  of  a  great  and 
sincere  soul,  a  man  who  had  known  the  chastening  of  adver- 
sity, a  man  who  had  risked  all,  and  indeed  lost  much,  that 
he  might  do  the  duty  nearest  him. 

Let  us  now  consider  these  products  of  the  devotional 
poets  of  the  reign  of  Charles.  Quarles  and  Wither  both 
began  writing  in  the  reign  of  James.  If  we  except  the 
several  devotional  verse-pamphlets  of  Nicholas  Breton  and 
some  others  of  earlier  times,  Quarles  was  one  of  the  first  as 
he  long  remained  by  far  the  most  popular  of  what  may  be 
termed  the  devotional  pamphleteers.  As  early  as  162 1  he 
had  published  his  Hadessa,  The  History  of  Queen  Esther, 
followed  by  Si'on's  Elegies,  1624,  Sion's  Sonnets,  1625,  The 
Feast  for  Worms  diud  fob  Militant,  both  in  1626,  The  History 
of  Safnson,  1631,  and  Divifie  Fancies  in  1632.  Many  of  these 
works,  as  their  titles  indicate,  are  paraphrases  of  Biblical 
story,  but  in  Sion's  Elegies  and  Sion's  Sonnets  we  have  the 
devotional  lyric.  The  idea  of  the  collection  of  such  poems 
in  a  sequence  Quarles  probably  derived  from  Wither's  Hymns 
and  Songs  of  the  Church,  1623.  Sequences  of  "divine 
sonnets,"  as  they  were  called,  had  been  well  known  among 
the  writings  of  men  like  Constable  and  Breton  before  the 
close  of  the   last  century.^     Wither's  book   "  comprehends 

1  Cf.  Barnes'  Divine  Century  of  Spiritual  Sonnets,  1 595,  Constable's 
Spiritual   Sonnets,    of   doubtful   date,   Breton's    The   Soul's  Harmony, 


xlviii  INTRODUCTION. 

the  canonical  hymns,  and  such  parcels  of  Holy  Scripture  as 
may  properly  be  sung,  with  some  other  ancient  songs  .  .  . 
appropriated  to  the  several  tunes  and  occasions  observable 
in  the  church  of  England."  There  are  hymns  in  the  com- 
panion volume,  Hakluiah,  1641,  "When  oppressors  and 
wicked  men  flourish,"  "for  one  legally  censured,  whether 
justly  or  unjustly,"  "for  one  that  is  promoted,"  a  "thanks- 
giving after  drought."  The  fatherly  solicitude  of  this  worthy 
versifier  provided  for  every  sort  and  condition  of  man,  and 
for  every  contingency  of  life.  The  poet  of  Fair  Virtue, 
Wither's  immortal  volume  of  secular  verse,  has  almost  dis- 
appeared, except  for  a  certain  naivete  and  fluency  in  verse 
which  marks  everything  that  this  facile  writer  touched.  All 
ornament,  figure,  and  epithet  have  been  ruthlessly  destroyed, 
until  the  verse  is  as  direct  and  unadorned  as  the  baldest 
prose,  and  scarcely  more  inspired.  The  following  is  a  fair 
specimen  of  this  devotional  commonplace  : 

O  hear  us  though  we  still  offend, 
Augment  our  wasted  store  ; 
Into  this  land  that  plenty  send 
Which  filled  it  heretofore  ; 
Then  give  us  grace  to  use  it  so 
That  thou  may'st  pleased  be, 
And  that  when  fuller  we  shall  grow 
We  think  not  less  on  thee.^ 

In  most  respects  no  two  poets  could  present  more  oppo- 
site methods  than  Wither  and  Quarles.  There  may  be  some 
figures  of  speech  in  the  devotional  verse  of  Wither  —  I  have 

Donne's  Coronet,  and  Davies  of  Harford's  Wit's  Pilgrimage,  1610, 
1611. 

^  Haleluiah,  Part  II,  liymn  Ixix,  ed.  Spenser  Soc,  p.  129.  There 
is  some  entertaining  reading  on  the  function  of  sacred  poetry  in  Wither's 
preface  to  this  work. 


INTRODUCTION.  xlix 

not  found  them ;  Quarles  is  nothing  if  not  abundantly  and 
grotesquely  figurative,  allegorical,  and  enigmatic.  Wither  is 
direct  in  construction  if  garrulous,  and  of  easy  flapping, 
onward  flight  ;  Quarles  is  at  times  much  twisted  and  con- 
torted, and  soars  after  his  kind  with  absurd  intermittent 
flops  and  downfalls.  Quarles,  too,  is  garrulous  ;  but  while 
Wither  is  apt  to  say  the  same  thing  about  many  things, 
Quarles  says  a  great  many  things  about  the  same  thing. 
There  is  a  homely  sincerity  of  speech  about  Wither  which  is 
as  far  above  the  strained  ingenuity  of  Quarles  as  it  is  below 
the  revealing  poetical  insight  of  Vaughan. 

The  most  famous  book  of  Quarles  is  his  Emblems,  1635. 
It  is  probable  that  this  was  the  most  popular  book  of  verse 
published  during  the  century.  It  is  still  reprinted  for  reli- 
gious edification  with  a  reproduction  of  the  hideous  allegor- 
ical wood-cuts  of  the  original  edition.  Although  his  verse  is' 
much  overgrown  with  conceits,  repetition,  and  verbiage,  and 
impaired  by  slovenly  versification  (a  fault  which  he  shares 
with  contemporaries  far  greater  than  he),  there  is  much  real 
poetry  in  Quarles.  In  moments  of  fervid  religious  excite- 
ment the  gauds  and  baubles  of  his  ordinary  poetic  diction 
drop  away  and  he  writes  with  manly  directness  : 

O  whither  shall  I  fly  ?  what  path  untrod 
Shall  I  seek  out  to  scape  the  flaming  rod 
Of  my  offended,  of  my  angry  God } 

Where  shall  I  sojourn  ?  what  kind  sea  will  hide 
My  head  from  thunder.?  where  shall  I  abide, 
Until  his  flames  be  quenched  or  laid  aside? 

What  if  my  feet  should  take  their  hasty  flight. 
And  seek  protection  in  the  shades  of  night .'' 
Alas,  no  shades  can  blind  the  God  of  Light.^ 

1  Emblems,  ed.  London,  1823,  p.  124,  and  p.  53,  below. 


1  INTRODUCTION. 

Two  years  earlier  Herbert's  Temple  had  appeared  and  at 
once  taken  hold  upon  the  hearts  of  the  readers.  George 
Herbert  was  a  gentleman  by  birth  and  a  rare  scholar ;  he 
had  been  a  courtier  and  a  man  of  the  world,  so  far  as  that 
pure  and  modest  spirit  could  be  of  the  world.  Like 
Quarles,  Herbert  reached  the  serious  readers  of  his  age 
with  his  sincerity,  his  piety,  his  rhetorical  if  somewhat 
artificial  and  '  conceited '  style,  and  his  originality  of 
figure.  He  went  much  further,  for  Herbert,  whatever  be 
his  rank  amongst  others,  is  a  true  poet  who,  alike  in  form 
and  spirit,  often  raises  the  particular  idea  into  the  sphere 
of  the  universal  and  makes  it  a  thing  of  new  beauty  and 
potency. 

We  may  pass  over  the  Fourth  Part  of  Casta ra,  1639-1640, 
the  devotional  poetry  of  which  is  not  without  considerable 
merit,  although  bookish  and  imitative,  like  most  of  Habing- 
ton's  work.  Of  greater  interest  are  the  scriptural  paraphrases 
of  George  Sandys  the  traveller,  including  a  complete  and  ex- 
cellent version  of  the  Psahns,  Job,  and  Ecclesiastes.  The  dig- 
nified original  poem  Deo  Optimo  Maxiino  is  a  good  specimen 
of  the  devotional  eloquence  of  Sandys,  who  appears  to  have 
been  a  man  of  fine  fibre  and  delicacy  of  feeling.  To  Sandys 
has  been  assigned  the  place  amongst  devotional  poets  that 
Waller  holds  among  the  amorists :  that  of  a  man  whose 
somewhat  formal  and  restrained  nature  lent  itself  readily  to 
the  reaction  in  rhetoric  and  versification  which  was  setting 
in.  Sandys  has  even  been  considered  '"the  first  of  all  Eng- 
lishmen [to  make]  a  uniform  practice  of  writing  in  heroic 
couplets  which  are,  on  the  whole,  in  accord  with  the  French 
rule,  and  which,  for  exactness  of  construction,  and  for  har- 
monious versification,  go  far  towards  satisfying  the  demands 
of  the  later  '  classical '  school  in  England."  ^  Of  the  absolute 
incorrectness  of  this  opinion,  despite  its  long  entrenchment, 
1  See  Professor  Wood's  paper  mentioned  below,  p.  Ix. 


INTRODUCTION.  H 

and  of  its  accidental  origin  in  a  scribbled  note  of  Pope,  I 
shall  write  below. 

In  1646  appeared  Steps  to  the  2'emple,  with  a  few  secular 
poems  under  the  sub-title,  The  Delights  of  the  Muses.,  by  Rich- 
ard Crashaw.  The  Steps  was  so  named  in  modest  refer- 
ence and  relation  to  Herbert's  Temple,  which  was  Crashaw's 
immediate  inspiration.  Crashaw  while  a  student  at  Cam- 
bridge came  under  influences  which,  considering  the  differ- 
ence in  the  two  ages,  are  not  incomparable  to  the  Oxford  or 
Tractarian  Movement  of  our  own  century.  In  the  fervent 
and  pious  life  of  Nicholas  Ferrar,  into  whose  hands  we  have 
already  seen  the  dying  Herbert  confiding  his  poetry,  Crashaw 
found  much  to  emulate  and  admire.  Ferrar,  notable  in  sci- 
ence, and  a  successful  man  of  affairs,  forsook  the  world  and 
formed,  with  his  kinfolk  about  him,  a  small  religious  commu- 
nity at  Little  Giddings  in  Huntingdonshire,  where  he  sought 
to  lead  a  spiritual  life  in  accord  with  the  principles  of  the 
Anglican  Church.  Predisposed  as  was  Crashaw  to  that  in- 
tense and  sensuous  visualization  of  spiritual  emotion  which 
has  characterized  the  saints  and  fathers  of  the  Roman 
Church  in  many  ages,  in  the  life  of  Saint  Theresa  the  poet 
found  his  ideal  and  his  hope.  His  artistic  temperament 
had  led  him  early  "  to  denounce  those  who  disassociate  art 
from  religious  worship";  the  charity  and  benignity  of  his 
temper  caused  him  equally  to  oppose  those  who  made  an 
attack  upon  the  papacy  an  article  of  faith.  It  is  easy  to  see 
how  this  attitude,  under  the  spiritual  influence  of  such  men 
as  Herbert,  Robert  Shelford,  and  Ferrar,  should  gradually 
have  led  Crashaw,  with  the  help  of  some  added  political 
impetus,  over  to  the  old  faith.  This  impetus  came  in  the 
form  of  the  parliamentary  act  by  which  it  was  provided  that 
all  monuments  of  superstition  be  removed  from  the  churches 
and  that  the  fellows  of  the  universities  be  required  to  take 
the  oath  of   the  Solemn   League    and   Covenant.     On    the 


lii  INTRODUCTION. 

enforcement  of  this  act  against  Peteriiouse,  Crashaw's  own 
college,  and  the  consequent  desecration  of  its  beautiful 
chapel,  Crashaw  indignantly  refused  the  League  and  Cov- 
enant, and  was  expelled  from  his  fellowship.  Before  long 
he  withdrew  to  Paris,  where  he  met  Cowley.  Crashaw  died 
in  Italy  a  few  years  later,  a  priest  of  the  Church  of  Rome. 
The  picture  of  Cowley,  the  fair-minded,  meditative  Epicu- 
rean, befriending  the  young  enthusiast,  when  both  were  in 
exile,  is  pleasant  to  dwell  upon. 

The  relation  of  Crashaw  to  Herbert,  save  for  his  disciple- 
ship,  which  changed  very  little  Crashaw's  distinctive  traits, 
is  much  that  of  Herrick  and  Carew.  Herbert  and  Crashaw 
were  both  good  scholars ;  Herbert  knew  the  world  and  put 
it  aside  as  vanity  ;  Crashaw  could  never  have  been  of  the 
world  ;  his  was  a  nature  alien  to  it,  and  yet  there  is  a  greater 
warmth  in  Crashaw  than  in  Herbert.  Crashaw  turns  the 
passions  of  earth  to  worship  and  identifies  the  spiritual  and 
the  material  in  his  devotion ;  Herbert  has  the  Puritan  spirit 
within  him,  which  is  troubled  in  the  contemplation  of  earthly 
vanities,  and  struggles  to  rise  above  and  beyond  them.  It 
is  the  antithesis  of  Protestantism  and  Roman  Catholicism, 
an  antithesis  which  we  can  understand  better  if  we  can 
bring  ourselves  to  sympathize  with  each  than  if  we  seek 
to  throw  ourselves  into  an  attitude  of  attack  or  defense 
of  either. 

In  matter  of  poetic  style,  too,  despite  his  quips  and  con- 
ceits, and  despite  the  fact  that  with  him,  as  with  many  devo- 
tional poets,  execution  waits  upon  the  thought  and  often 
comes  limpingly  after,  Herbert  is  far  more  self-restrained, 
and  his  poetry  of  more  uniform  workmanship  and  excellence. 
Rut  if  Herbert  has  never  fallen  into  Crashaw's  extravagances, 
he  is  equally  incapable  of  his  inspired,  rhapsodic  flights. 
Herbert  felt  the  beauties  of  this  visible  world  and  has  some 
delicate  touches  of  appreciation,  as  where  he  says: 


INTR  on  UC  T/O.V.  1  i  i  i 

I  wish  I  were  a  tree 
For  sure  then  I  should  grow 
To  fruit  or  shade  ;  at  least  some  bird  would  trust 
Her  household  to  me,  and  I  should  be  just.^ 

Crashaw  knows  less  of  the  concrete  objects  of  the  world, 
but  is  a  creature  of  light  and  atmosphere,  and  revels  in  color 
and  the  gorgeousness  thereof.  Crashaw  often  rhapsodizes 
without  bridle,  and  is  open  at  times  to  grave  criticism  on 
the  score  of  taste.  It  is  for  these  shortcomings  that  he  has 
been,  time  out  of  mind,  the  stock  example  of  the  dreadful 
things  into  which  the  ill-regulated  poetical  fancy  may  fall. 
The  "sister  baths "  and  "portable  oceans"  of  Magdalene 
are  easily  ridiculed,  but  it  is  almost  as  easy,  while  ridiculing 
these  distortions  of  fancy,  to  forget  the  luminousness  and 
radiance,  the  uncommon  imaginative  power  and  volatility  of 
mind  —  if  I  may  venture  the  term  —  of  this  devout  Shelley 
of  the  reign  of  Charles  I. 

Two  years  after  the  first  edition  of  Crashaw's  poems, 
appeared  Herrick's  Noble  Numbers,  bearing  date  1647,  but 
bound  in  after  the  Hesperides,  1648.  Herrick  was  too  good 
a  poet  not  to  write  well  on  any  theme,  and  some  of  these 
devotional  and  moral  poems  have  the  same  artless  and  dainty 
charm  that  is  possessed  in  fuller  measure  by  their  more 
worldly  sisters.  The  stately  and  gracious  forms  of  Anglican 
worship  must  have  been  dear  to  such  a  man  as  Herrick, 
but  it  is  unlikely  that  any  deep  spiritual  yearnings  disturbed 
the  pastoral  serenity  of  Dean  Prior.  Herrick  is  best  when 
his  devotional  poetry  touches  the  picturesque  details  of  his 
own  life  in  poems  like  the  Grange,  A  Thanksgiving  for  his 
House,  or  when  the  subject  grows  out  of  a  touching  Biblical 
situation  which  may  be  elaborated  with  art,  as  in  the  fine 
Dirge  for  Jephthah''  s  Daughter?  But  even  these  sincere  and 
beautiful  religious  lyrics  are  as  ripples  on  a  shallow  lake  in 

1  Herbert,  ed.  Grosart,  p.  40.      "  Pp.  109,  143,  and  147  of  Hale's  ed. 


liv  IXTRODUCTION. 

comparison  with  the  crested  waves  of  Crashaw  or  the  deep- 
sea  stirrings  of  Vaughan. 

If  we  look  forward  we  shall  find  the  practice  of  the  sus- 
tained religious  narrative  poem,  first  popularized  by  Quarles, 
continuing  down  to  very  late  times.  Thus  Cowley  wrote  an 
epic,  the  Davideis,  and  Prior  esteemed  his  Solomon  the  best 
of  his  work.  Parnell  wrote  on  Moses,  Deborah,  Hezekia/i, 
and  others,  Blackmore  on  all  Creation,^  whilst  the  seemly 
and  graceful  turning  out  of  a  hymn,  meditation,  or  short 
Biblical  paraphrase  became  one  of  the  ordinary  accomplish- 
ments of  a  gentleman.  No  less  a  celebrity  than  the  eminent 
Mr.  Waller  wrote  cantos  of  Divine  Love,  of  the  Fear  of  God, 
and  of  Divine  Poesy,  with  poetical  reflections  on  the  Lord's 
Prayer  2;  and  his  great  successors,  Dryden  and  Pope,  did 
not  disdain  to  follow  his  example  in  the  decorous  if  occa- 
sional practice  of  a  like  art. 

The  gracious  and  musical  lyrics  of  Andrew  Marvell  were 
written  in  all  probability  before  he  took  service  under  the 
Commonwealth  in  1652.-  Like  Milton,  Marvell  laid  aside 
the  companionship  of  the  Muses  to  fight  worldly  battles  for 
what  he  believed  to  be  the  right;  but,  unlike  Milton,  he 
never  returned  to  poetry  again,  byt  remained  in  the  toil  and 
sweat  of  battle  to  the  last.  Marvell's  devotional  poems  are 
only  a  few,  but  there  is  about  them,  as  about  all  the  lyrical 
verse  which  this  rare  poet  has  left  us,  a  moral  wholesome- 
ness,  a  genuine  joy  in  external  nature,  and  withal  so  well- 
contained  a  grace  of  expression,  that  Marvell  must  be 
assigned  no  mean  place  among  the  lyrists  of  his  century.''' 
Curiously  enough,  Marvell  has  extended  the  pastoral  to 
embrace   religious   poetry   in    one   or  two   not   unsuccessful 

1  Davidcis  is  in  Anderson's  British  Poets,  V,  389-426 ;  Prior's,  Par- 
nell's  and  Blackmore's  works  are  in  the  same  collection,  VII,  473-492  ; 
25  f.,  596-642.  2  Anderson's  English  Poets,  V,  498-506. 

^  See  Grosart's  ed.  of  Marvell. 


INTR  OD  UC  TION.  1 V 

efforts.  The  ode  celebrating  the  nativity,  which  from  its 
theme  always  partook  of  the  pastoral  nature,  was  to  be  sure, 
no  new  thing ;  and  Herrick,  with  others  before  him,  had 
applied  the  pastoral  to  occasional  verse/  Marvell's  poems 
are  dilTerent,  and  while  didactic  in  intent,  are  yet  distinctly 
artistic.  Such  poems  are  Clorinda  and  Dafnon,  and  A  Dia- 
logue betwce?i  Thyrsis  and  Dorinda!" 

There  remains  one  great  name,  that  of  Henry  Vaughan, 
the  Silurist,  whose  secular  verse,  published  as  early  as  1646, 
was  succeeded  by  long  years  of  religious  study  and  contempla- 
tion, and  the  production  of  many  books  in  verse  and  prose, 
all  devotional  in  cast.^  Vaughan  knew  Randolph  and  Cart- 
wright  and  venerated  the  memory  of  Jonson,  who  died  when 
Vaughan  was  a  youth  at  Oxford  ;  under  this  influence  he 
translated  Juvenal  and  wrote  some  erotic  poetry  not  above 
that  of  Randolph  or  Stanley.  From  the  little  we  know  of 
his  life,  it  seems  that  Vaughan,  like  Herbert,  had  been  of 
the  world  in  his  younger  days,  and  that  the  chastening  hand 
of  adversity  had  fallen  heavily  upon  him  and  led  him  away 
from  earthly  themes  to  the  contemplative  and  devout  life  of 
a  recluse.  Without  violence  to  the  probable  facts,  we  may 
conceive  of  Vaughan  in  his  beautiful  home  in  South  Wales 
as  we  think  of  Wordsworth  in  later  times  in  his  beloved 
Lake  Country,  a  lover  of  woods  and  hills  and  the  life  that 
makes  them  melodious,  but  a  lover  of  them  not  merely  for 
their  beauty,  but  for  the  divine  message  which  they  bear  to 
man,  their  revelation  and  ethical  import.  Vaughan's  nature, 
like  that  of  Wordsworth,  is  alike  expansive  and  narrow. 
The  expansiveness  of  the  two  poets  is  not  unlike,  and  con- 
sists in  a  large-souled  interpretation  of  the  goodness  of  God 

^  Cf.  A  Pastoral  upon  the  Birth  of  Prince  Charles,  ed.  Hale,  p.  35. 
2  Ed.  Aitken,  1892,  pp.  41  and  77  ;  and  below,  pp.  152  and  154. 
^  Grosart  has  collected  the  secular  and  devotional  poetry  of  Vaughan 
in  four  volumes,  1868-1870. 


1  vi  INTR  OD  UC  TION. 

as  revealed  to  man  in  his  works,  in  a  loving  appreciation  of 
the  beauties  of  nature,  in  a  revealing  ethical  insight,  and 
in  a  "high  seriousness"  intent  on  worthy  themes.  On  the 
other  hand,  both  poets  were  narrow,  though  differing  in  their 
limitations.  To  Wordsworth  doubts,  fears,  and  the  complex- 
ities of  modern  life  were  naught ;  they  did  not  exist  for  him. 
Vaughan  had  put  the  world  from  him,  although  he  had 
known  it  and  still  heard  it  from  afar,  like  the  hum  of  a  great 
and  wicked  city,  out  of  which  his  soul  had  been  delivered. 
Wordsworth,  with  all  his  greatness,  was  narrowed  by  ego- 
tism, by  didacticism,  by  pride  ;  Vaughan,  far  less  —  if  at  all  — 
by  any  of  these,  than  by  his  theology,  which  is  often  hard 
and  formal,  and  at  times  unlovely.  Vaughan  was  also  lim- 
ited—  and  here  the  like  is  true  of  Wordsworth — by  an 
imperfect  artistic  sense  and  a  halting  execution. 

Vaughan's  "  realism  in  detail,"  which  is  based  not  only 
upon  a  close  observance  of  nature,  but  upon  a  sympathy 
and  love  extending  to  all  living  creatures,  seems  a  heritage 
from  a  nobler  age  than  his.  In  no  one  of  his  immediate  con- 
temporaries do  we  find  it  in  the  same  strength  and  imbued 
with  the  same  tenderness;  not  in  the  grand  descriptive  elo- 
quence of  Milton,  in  the  homeliness  of  Marvell,  nor  in  the 
sensuous  delight  of  Herrick.  It  is  thus  that  Vaughan 
addresses  a  bird : 

Hither  thou  com'st.      The  busy  wind  all  night 
Blew  through  thy  lodging,  where  tliy  own  warm  wing 
Thy  pillow  was.      Many  a  sullen  storm, 
For  which  coarse  man  seems  much  the  fitter  born. 
Rained  in  thy  bed 
And  harmless  head  ; 
And  now  as  fresh  and  cheerful  as  the  light 
Thy  little  heart  in  early  hymns  doth  sing 
Unto  that  Providence,  whose  unseen  arm 
Curbed  them,  and  clothed  thee  well  and  warm.^ 

^  The  Birdi  Sacred  Poe?)is  of  Vaughan,  ed.  Lyte,  1891,  p.  174. 


introduction:  Ivii 

In  Vaughan's  mysticism  we  have  a  more  general  trait  of 
the  religious  poet,  a  trait  not  more  peculiar  in  this  age  to 
Vaughan  than  to  Crashaw.  Mysticism  of  symbol,  whether 
it  manifest  itself  in  poetry  or  in  philosophy  and  religion,  is 
one  of  the  most  difficult  subjects  with  which  the  critic  has 
to  deal,  for  it  demands  an  ability  to  take  the  momentary 
subjective  position  of  the  author,  and  a  complete  reconstruc- 
tion of  his  mood.  The  religious  mysticism  of  Vaughan  is 
distinguishable  from  that  of  Crashaw  chiefly  in  the  fact  that 
Vaughan  is  less  ecstatic  and  more  musingly  meditative  ;  less 
purely  emotional,  although,  when  roused,  stirred  to  the  inner 
deeps  of  his  nature.  Not  the  least  interesting  quality  of 
the  poetry  of  Vaughan  is  its  intellectuality,  a  quality  which 
we  are  apt  to  think  opposed  to  the  spontaneity  of  emotion 
which  inspires  the  highest  forms  of  art  and  that  naturalness 
or  inevitability  of  expression  in  which  the  highest  art  is  ever 
clothed.  Yet  intellectuality  is  alike  the  glory  of  Donne  and 
of  our  own  great  contemporary,  the  late  Robert  Browning. 
Art  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  a  thing  into  which  the  rational 
processes  enter  very  little  as  compared  with  the  emotions , 
but  rather  as  a  production  in  which  such  a  proportion  of  the 
impelling  emotion  and  the  regulative  reason  is  preserved  as 
neither  to  degrade  the  product  into  mere  sensuousness  nor 
to  change  its  nature  from  art,  which  is  the  presentation  of 
the  typified  image,  to  philosophy,  which  is  the  rational  dis- 
tinction of  its  actual  properties.  A  wanton  confusion  of 
images  which  neither  reveal  and  figure  forth  nor  distinguish 
and  make  clear,  is  neither  art  nor  philosophy,  but  a  base 
product  that  fails  utterly  of  the  purposes  of  either. 

We  have  thus  traversed  a  period  of  scarcely  sixty  years 
and  found  in  it,  alongside  of  a  large  amount  of  poetry  dis- 
tinctly secular  and  often  flippant  in  the  worldliness  of  its 
tone,  a  body  of  devotional  poetry  of  a  quantity  and  a  qual- 
ity for  which  we  may  look  in  vain  in  any  other  half-century 


1  Viii  INTR  OD  UC  TION. 

of  English  literature.  A  superficial  consideration  of  this 
century  is  apt  to  divide  all  England  into  the  hostile  camps 
of  Roundhead  and  Cavalier ;  to  consider  all  the  former  as 
hypocrites,  and  all  the  latter  as  good  loyal  men  ;  or  —  as  is 
more  usual  in  our  country  —  to  believe  all  supporters  of  the 
king  utterly  misguided  and  to  assume  that  the  virtues  flour- 
ished in  the  Puritan  party  alone.  In  the  face  of  these 
vulgar  prejudices,  it  is  interesting  to  note  that  among 
the  devotional  poets  of  that  age,  Habington  and  Crashaw 
were  Romanists,  Wither,  Milton,  Marvell  (though  "  no 
Roundhead,"  as  his  most  recent  editor  puts  it)  were  Puri- 
tans, and  all  the  others  were  members  of  the  Established 
Church.  The  spirit  of  devotion  which  sought  utterance  in 
verse  rose  superior  to  the  narrowness  of  mere  dogma,  and 
the  inspiration  of  poetry  waited  not  on  a  favored  sect  alone. 
Indeed,  nothing  could  better  prove  the  strong  religious  feel- 
ing which  continued  to  animate  the  average  Englishman  of 
the  seventeenth  century  than  the  great  popularity  of  books 
like  those  of  Quarles  and  Herbert  among  the  communicants 
of  the  Church  of  England.  The  Non-Conformists  ha^  their 
imaginative  literature,  too,  and  produced  in  this  century  a 
man  who,  if  not  a  poet,  is  almost  everything  else  that  litera- 
ture can  demand.  Pilgrim'' s  Progress  is  not  much  later  than 
the  latest  work  of  Vaughan  and  marks  a  long  step  forward 
when  compared  with  the  contorted  and  mystical  allegory  of 
Quarles.  In  devotional  literature,  as  in  secular,  the  coming 
age  was  the  age  of  prose,  and  in  this  immortal  work  the 
change  was  already  complete. 

With  the  return  of  Charles  and  the  exiles,  the  popularity 
of  religious  verse  decreased,  controversial  prose  coming 
more  and  more  to  take  its  place  with  devout  readers.  How- 
ever, some  few  lesser  poets  of  conservative  tastes,  like  John 
Norris  of  Bemerton,  continued  to  cultivate  '  divine  poetry ' 
far  into  the  last  quarter  of  the  century.     Samson  Agonistes 


INTRODUCTION.  lix 

and  the  great  epics  of  Milton  do  not  concern  us  directly 
here,  although  they  are  the  loftiest  poetical  utterances  which 
the  English  Muse  has  devoted  to  religion.  It  is  well  known 
that  contemporary  influences  contributed  little  to  them,  and 
that  they  were  written  upon  a  long-formed  determination, 
and  come  as  the  late  and  crowning  glory  of  a  rich  poetical 
past.  The  poems  of  Milton  have  lost  somewhat  in  our  day 
of  rational  thinking ;  criticism  shudders  at  a  cosmogony  in 
which  Christian  legend  and  pagan  mythology  are  mingled 
in  Titanic  confusion.  It  is  with  Paradise  Lost  much  as  it  is 
with  the  stately  fugues  of  John  Sebastian  Bach,  the  father  of 
modern  music.  We  prefer  something  very  different,  foun- 
tains with  a  thousand  jets,  artificial  cataracts  lit  up  with 
electricity.  But  the  great  ocean  of  the  immortal  music  of 
Bach  and  of  the  no  less  immortal  poetry  of  Milton  wall  roll 
in  sonorous  waves  and  unfathomable  depths,  when  all  the 
little  tuneful  waterworks  of  poetical  and  musical  mimicry 
are  dumb. 

VI. 

Poetry  drooped  with  the  death  of  King  Charles  I. 
Milton  had  already  thrown  himself  heart  and  soul  into  the 
political  struggle  ;  Marvell  was  soon  to  follow.  Many  of  the 
Cavalier  poets  were  dead ;  those  that  survived  were  either 
silent  in  the  miseries  of  poverty  with  Lovelace,  boisterously 
carolling  drinking  songs  with  Alexander  Brome  and  Charles 
Cotton,  or  keeping  up  the  unequal  struggle  in  satire,  ribald 
and  hoarse  with  abuse,  like  Clieveland's.  Stanley  had  turned 
to  the  consolations  of  philosophical  study.  Montrose,  the 
last  of  that  goodly  line  of  English  noblemen  whose  highly 
tempered  mettle  expressed  itself  unaffectedly  in  lyrical  song, 
survived  his  sovereign  but  one  year.  If  we  except  Vaughan, 
a  few  belated  publications  like  those  of  Stanley,  Sherburne, 
and  King,  and  the  posthumous  volumes  of  Cartwright  and 


Ix  INTR  on  UC  TION. 

Crashaw,  the  fifth  decade  of  the  century  is  singularly  barren 
of  poetry.  The  younger  men,  who  were  shortly  to  evolve 
new  ideals,  were  as  yet  unknown,  although  it  must  not  be 
forgotten  that  at  the  Restoration  Cowley  had  been  before 
the  public  as  a  poet  for  nearly  thirty  years,  and  Waller  rather 
longer/ 

There  are  few  subjects  in  the  history  of  English  literature 
attended  with  greater  difficulty  than  the  attempt  to  explain 
how  the  lapse  of  a  century  in  time  should  have  transformed 
the  literature  of  England  from  the  traits  which  characterized 
it  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth  to  those  which  came  to 
prevail  under  the  rule  of  Queen  Anne.  The  salient  charac- 
teristics of  the  two  ages  are  much  too  well  known  to  call  for 
a  word  here.  Few  readers,  moreover,  are  unfamiliar  with 
the  more  usual  theories  on  this  subject :  how  one  critic 
believes  that  Edmund  Waller  invented  the  new  poetry  by 
a  spontaneous  exercise  of  his  own  cleverness  ^ ;  how  another 
demands  that  this  responsibility  be  fixed  upon  George 
Sandys  ^  ;  how  some  think  that  "  classicism  "  was  an  impor- 
tation from  France,  which  came  into  England  in  the  luggage 
of  the  fascinating  Frenchwoman  who  afterwards  became  the 
Duchess  of  Portsmouth  ;  and  how  still  others  suppose  that 
the  whole  thing  was  really  in  the  air  to  be  caught  by  infection 
by  any  one  who  did  not  draw  apart  and  live  out  of  this  lit- 
erary miasma,  as  did  Milton.'*  The  conservative  reaction  in 
literature  which  triumphed  at  the  Restoration  has  been  so 
hardly  treated  and  so  bitterly  scorned  that  there  is  much 
temptation  to  attempt  a  justification.  Imaginative  literature 
did   lose  in  the   change,   and  enormously ;  and   as   we  are 

^  See  the  poem  of  the  text,  j3.  5. 

2  Gosse,  Eighteenlh  Century  Literature,  p.  2. 

3  Professor  Henry  Wood,  Americaft  Journal  of  Philology,  XI,  73, 
and  see  p.  1,  above. 

*  Gosse,  From  Shakespeare  to  Pope,  p.  19. 


INTRODUCTION.  Ixi 

engaged  to  a  large  extent  in  a  consideration  of  imaginative 
products  in  treating  of  the  lyric,  it  is  to  be  expected  that  we 
shall  find  many  things  to  deplore.  But  if  the  imagination, 
and  with  it  the  power  which  produces  poetry,  became  for 
a  time  all  but  extinct,  the  understanding,  or  power  which 
arranges,  correlates,  expounds,  and  explains,  went  through  a 
course  of  development  which  has  brought  with  it  in  the  end 
nothing  but  gain  to  the  literature  considered  as  a  whole. 

If  the  reader  will  consider  the  three  great  names,  Ben 
Jon  son,  finishing  his  work  about  1635,  John  Dryden,  at  the 
height  of  his  fame  fifty  years  later,  and  Alexander  Pope,  with 
nearly  ten  years  of  literary  activity  before  him  a  century  after 
Jonson's  death,  he  will  notice  certain  marked  differences  in 
a  general  resemblance  in  the  range,  subject-matter,  and  dic- 
tion of  the  works  of  these  three.  The  plays  of  Jonson,  despite 
the  restrictive  character  of  his  genius,  exemplify  nearly  the 
whole  spacious  field  of  Elizabethan  drama,  with  an  added 
success  in  the  development  of  the  masque  which  is  Jonson's 
own.  Jonson  is  the  first  poet  that  gave  to  occasional  verse 
that  variety  of  subject,  that  power  and  finish  which  made  it 
for  nearly  two  centuries  the  most  important  form  of  poetical 
expression.  The  works  of  Jonson  are  pervaded  with  satire, 
criticism,  and  translation,  though  all  appear  less  in  set  form 
than  as  applied  to  original  work.  Finally,  Jonson's  lyrics 
maintain  the  diversity,  beauty,  and  originality  which  distin- 
guish this  species  of  poetry  in  his  favored  age. 

If  we  turn  to  Dryden,  we  still  find  a  wide  range  in  sub- 
ject, although  limitations  are  discoverable  in  the  character 
of  his  dramas  and  of  his  lyrics.  If  we  except  his  operas 
and  those  pseudo-dramatic  aberrations  in  which  he  adapted 
the  work  of  Shakespeare  and  Milton,  Dryden  writes  only  two 
kinds  of  plays,  the  heroic  drama  and  the  comedy  of  man- 
ners, whilst  his  lyrics,  excepting  the  two  odes  for  Saint 
Cecilia's   Day   and   some   perfunctory  religious   poems,  are 


Ixii  INTRODUCTIOX.  ' 

wholly  amatory  in  the  narrow  and  vitiated  sense  in  which 
that  term  was  employed  in  the  time  of  Charles  II.  The 
strongest  element  of  Dryden's  work  is  occasional  verse  ;  and 
he  makes  a  new  departure,  showing  the  tendency  of  the  time 
in  the  development  of  what  may  be  called  occasional  prose  : 
the  preface  and  dedicatory  epistle.  Satire  takes  form  in  the 
translation  of  Juvenal  and  in  the  author's  own  brilliant  origi- 
nal satires ;  translation  becomes  Dryden's  most  lucrative  lit- 
erary employment ;  and  criticism  is  the  very  element  in  which 
he  lives.  Lastly,  we  turn  to  Pope.  Here  are  no  plays  and 
very  few  lyrics,  scarcely  one  which  is  not  an  applied  poem. 
Occasional  verse,  satire,  criticism,  and  translation  have 
usurped  the  whole  field.  There  was  no  need  that  Pope 
should  write  his  criticism  in  prose,  as  did  Dryden,  for 
verse  had  become  in  his  hands  essentially  a  medium  for 
the  expression  of  that  species  of  thought  which  we  in  this 
century  associate  with  the  prose  form.  The  verse  of  Pope 
was  a  medium  more  happily  fitted  for  the  expression  of 
the  thought  of  Pope,  where  rhetorical  brilliancy  and  telling 
antithesis,  rather  than  precision  of  thought,  were  demanded, 
than  any  prose  that  could  possibly  have  been  devised. 

It  has  often  been  affirmed  that  England  has  the  greater 
poetry,  whilst  France  possesses  the  superior  prose,  and  in 
the  confusion  or  distinction  of  the  two  species  of  literature 
this  difference  has  been  explained.^  Poetry  must  be  governed 
by  the  imagination  ;  it  must  not  only  see  and  imitate  nature, 
it  must  transform  what  it  sees,  converting  the  actual  into  the 
terms  of  the  ideal ;  if  it  does  much  beside,  it  is  less  poetry. 
On  the  other  hand,  prose  is  a  matter  of  the  understanding; 
it  may  call  to  its  aid  whatever  other  faculty  you  will,  but  it 
must  be  ruled  by  the  intelligence  alone,  to  the  end  that 
the  object  may  be  realized  as  it  actually  is.     With  this  dis- 

1  See,  in  general,  Matthew  Arnold's  essay  On  t/w Literary  Influe7ue 
of  Academies. 


INTRODUCTION.  Ixiii 

tinction  before  us,  when  passion,  real  or  simulated,  when 
imagination,  genuine  or  forced,  takes  the  reins  from  the 
understanding,  the  product  may  become  poetry,  or  enthusi- 
asm, or  rhapsody  ;  it  certainly  ceases  to  be  prose,  good,  bad, 
or  indifferent.  So,  likewise,  when  the  understanding  sup- 
plants imagination  we  have  also  a  product,  which,  whatever 
its  form  or  the  wealth  of  rhetoric  bestowed  upon  it,  is  alien 
to  poetry.  This  is  to  be  interpreted  into  no  criticism  of  the 
many  English  literary  products  which  have  the  power  to 
run  and  to  fly ;  we  could  not  spare  one  of  the  great  pages 
of  Carlyle  or  of  Mr.  Ruskin,  and  yet  it  may  well  be  doubted 
if,  on  the  whole,  the  French  have  not  been  the  gainers 
from  the  care  with  which  they  have  customarily,  until  lately, 
kept  their  prose  and  their  poetry  sundered. 

The  real  value  of  the  age  of  repression  consisted  in  its 
recognition  of  the  place  that  the  understanding  must  ever 
hold,  not  only  in  the  production  of  prose,  but  in  the  produc- 
tion of  every  form  of  enduring  art.  It  endeavored  to  estab- 
lish a  standard  by  which  to  judge,  and  failed,  less  because 
of  the  inherent  weakness  of  the  restrictive  ideal  than  because 
the  very  excesses  of  the  imaginative  age  preceding  drove 
the  classicists  to  a  greater  recoil,  and  made  them  content 
with  the  correction  of  abuse  instead  of  solicitous  to  found 
their  reaction  upon  a  sound  basis.  The  essential  cause  of 
this  great  change  in  literature,  above  all  mere  questions  of 
foreign  origin,  precocious  inventiveness  of  individual  poets, 
artificiality  and  "classical  heroic  couplets,"  lies  in  the  grad- 
ual increase  of  the  understanding  as  a  regulative  force  in 
the  newer  literature,  the  consequent  rise  of  a  well-ordered 
prose,  and  the  equally  consequent  suppression  for  several 
decades  of  that  free  play  of  the  imagination  which  is  the 
vitalizing  atmosphere  of  poetry. 

Whilst  the  larger  number  of  poets  between  1640  and 
1670,    according   to    temperament    or    circumstances,    held 


Ixiv  INTRODUCTION. 

either  to  the  old  manner,  as  did  Milton  and  Marvell,  or  went 
over  wholly  to  the  new,  as  did  Waller  and  Denham,  a  few 
were  caught,  so  to  speak,  between  the  conflicting  waves  of 
the  two  movements  and  are  of  unusual  historical  interest  on 
this  account.  Such  was  Davenant,  whom  Mr.  Gosse  has 
happily  described  as  the  Southey  of  the  Restoration,^  a  man 
of  strenuous  endeavor,  but,  whatever  value  is  attached  to  his 
epic  and  dramatic  labors,  far  from  a  successful  lyrist.  Such, 
too,  was  Charles  Cotton,  who  touches  Izaak  Walton  on  one 
side  with  his  love  of  peaceful  rural  landscape  and  homely 
country  life,  and  continues  into  the  last  quarter  of  the  cen- 
tury the  erotic  lyrical  vein  of  Carew,  with  native  originality, 
but  with  inferior  technical  execution.  Above  either  stands 
Abraham  Cowley,  the  poet  who,  with  Waller,  enjoyed  the 
greatest  contemporary  reputation  in  the  interval  between 
Jonson  and  Dryden,  and  who,  take  it  all  in  all,  fully  deserved 
it.  Much  has  been  written  on  Cowley  from  the  days  of 
Sprat  and  Dr.  Johnson  to  those  of  William  CuUen  Bryant 
and  Mr.  Gosse.  It  might  be  difficult,  too,  to  find  a  poet  of 
Cowley's  rank  who  has  been  more  variously  estimated,  a 
circumstance  for  which  the  eclecticism  of  his  art  may  in 
a  measure  account.'^  Historically  considered,  Cowley  is  a 
son  of  Donne,  in  thought  at  times  fantastic,  in  his  wit  often 
over-ingenious.  He  has  an  exasperating  habit  of  dwelling  on 
small  matters,  which  deflect  the  stream  of  his  thought  and 
break  it  up  into  petty  channels.  None  the  less  the  lyrics 
of  Cowley  are  estimable  for  their  sincerity,  for  the  gen- 
uine poetic  worth  of  many  whole  poems  and  far  more 
numerous  passages,  for  their  moral  purity,  for  their  honesty, 

1  Shakespeare  to  Pope,  p.  132. 

2  Cf.  the  regularity  of  Cowley's  couplets,  especially  in  the  Davideis, 
with  the  metrical  and  rhetorical  looseness  of  the  Pindarique  Odes, 
Cowley's  most  lasting  legacy  to  posterity,  and  traceable  in  their  influ- 
ence down  to  Wordsworth  and  Lowell. 


INTRODUCTION.  Ixv 

humor,  and  originality,  and  for  the  pleasant  cadence  of  their 
verse. 

George  Sandys  has  already  been  mentioned  amongst  devo- 
tional poets  and  as  one  of  those  to  whom  the  "  improved 
versification  "  of  the  next  period  has  been  confidently  attrib- 
uted.^ I  have  endeavored  elsewhere  to  show  that  as  a 
matter  of  fact  Sandys  conforms  more  nearly  to  the  type  of 
this  verse  as  used  by  Spenser  and  his  school  than  to  that  of 
the  eighteenth  century,  and  that  in  versification,  rhetoric,  and 
general  spirit  the  prototype  of  Dryden  and  Pope  is  Ben 
Jonson,  and  neither  Sandys  nor  Waller.^  Sandys  was  only 
one  of  many  who  contributed  to  the  coming  age  of  repres- 
sion. His  contribution  was  in  the  self-control  and  reserve 
of  his  style  and  in  the  regularity  of  his  verse.  But  neither 
of  these  qualities  is  peculiar  to  him  even  in  his  own  age,  and 
the  more  distinctive  qualities  of  the  Popean  manner  in  style, 
rhetoric,  and  versification  —  its  balance,  antithesis,  epigram- 
matic wit,  rhetorical  emphasis,  split  of  the  verse  into  two  halves 
—  are  none  of  them  Sandys'.  It  is  of  interest  to  note  that 
the  notion,  still  widely  current,  that  Waller  through  Sandys 
is  responsible  for  the  restrictive  form  of  the  decasyllabic 
couplet  as  employed  by  the  poets  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
is  traceable  to  a  manuscript  outline  plan  for  a  history  of 
English  poetry  which  was  found  amongst  the  papers  of  Pope, 
scribbled  on  a  scrap,  as  was  his  wont.  Therein  Cowley, 
Drayton,  Overbury,  Randolph,  Cartwright,  Crashaw,  and 
some  others  appear  under  the  heading  "School  of  Donne"; 
whilst  "  Carew  and  T.  Carey  "  are  noted  as  "  models  to 
Waller  in  matter,  G.  Sandys  in  his  Par\aphrase\  of  Job  and 
Fairfax  "  as  Waller's  models  "  in  versification."  ^    This  is  the 

1  American  Journal  of  Philology,  XI,  73. 

2  Ben  Jonsoti  and  the  Classical  School,  Publications  of  the  Modern 
Language  Association,  XIII,  No.  2. 

2  This  note  was  first  printed  by  Owen  Ruffhead  in  his  Life  of  Pope, 


Ixvi  INTROD  UC  TION. 

source  of  the  notion  which,  losing  sight  of  his  unquestionable 
worth  as  a  poet  and  a  translator,  has  assigned  to  Sandys 
an  undue  prominence  in  the  history  of  English  versification. 
Although  we  do  Waller  wrong  to  consider  him  the  con- 
scious originator  of  that  revolution  in  poetry  which  substi- 
tuted for  the  ideals  of  Spenser,  Jonson  or  Donne  those  of 
Dryden  and  Pope,  his  age  was  right  in  declaring  him  the 
true  exponent  of  the  new  "  classicism,"  for  it  was  in  Waller, 
above  all  others,  that  the  tendencies  of  conservatism  in 
thought,  diction,  and  versification  at  length  became  con- 
firmed into  a  system  which  gave  laws  to  English  poetry  for  a 
hundred  and  fifty  years.  Waller  had  practised  the  old  man- 
ner with  a  greater  freedom  than  was  ever  that  of  Sandys  ; 
but  the  earlier  part  of  Waller's  career  as  a  poet  is  difficult  to 
make  out,  for  when  he  had  achieved  success  in  the  new  and 
fashionable  style,  he  became  solicitous,  like  Malherbe,  to 
have  the  world  believe  that  his  classicism  began  in  his 
cradle.^  In  Waller  we  have  a  man  the  essence  of  whose 
character  was  time-serving,  a  man  to  whom  ideals  were 
nothing,  but  to  whom  immediate  worldly  success,  whether  in 
politics  or  letters,  was  much  ;  a  man  whose  very  unoriginality 
and  easy  adaptability  made  him  precisely  the  person  to  fill 
what  Mr.  Gosse  deftly  calls  the  post  of  "  coryphaeus  of  the 
long  procession  of  the  commonplace."  The  instinct  of  his 
followers  was  right  in  singling  him  out  for  that  position  of 
historical  eminence  ;  not  because,  as  a  boy,  he  sat  down  and 
deliberately  resolved  on  a  new  species  of  poetry,  but  because 

1769.  It  has  recently  been  used  by  Mr.  Courthope  in  the  preface  of  his 
History  of  English  Poetry  as  a  point  of  departure  for  the  discussion  of 
that  interesting  question,  How  should  a  history  of  English  poetry  be 
written  ? 

1  Cf.    Ode  d   Louis   XIII,  partant  pour  la    Rochelle,  ed.   Malherbe, 
Paris,  1823,  p.  75  : 

Les  puissantes  faveurs,  dont  Parnasse  m'honore 
Non  loin  de  mon  berceau  commencferent  leur  cours. 


INTRODUCTION.  Ixvii 

he  chose  out  with  unerring  precision  just  those  qualities  of 
thought,  form,  and  diction  which  appealed  to  the  people  of  his 
age,  and  wrote  and  rewrote  his  poetry  in  conformity  there- 
with. In  Carew,  Waller  found  the  quintessence  of  vers  de 
societe  and  "reformed"  it  of  its  excessive  laces  and  falling 
bands  to  congruity  with  the  greater  formality  which  governed 
the  costume  of  the  succeeding  century.  In  Sandys,  Fairfax, 
Drummond,  and  some  others  he  found  an  increasing  love  of 
that  regularity  of  rhythm  which  results  from  a  general 
correspondence  of  length  of  phrase  with  length  of  measure, 
and  he  found,  as  well,  a  smoothness  and  sweetness  of  dic- 
tion, in  which  these  poets  departed  measurably  from  their 
immediate  contemporaries  and  preserved  something  of  the 
mellifluousness  of  the  Spenserians.  Lastly,  in  Jonson  and 
the  Elizabethan  satirists  he  found,  amongst  much  with  which 
he  was  in  little  sympathy,  a  minute  attention  to  the  niceties 
of  expression,  a  kind  of  spruce  antithetical  diction,  and  a 
versification  of  a  constructiveness  suited  to  the  epigrammatic 
form  in  which  the  thought  was  often  cast.  With  almost 
feminine  tact  Waller  applied  these  things  to  his  unoriginal 
but  cleverly  chosen  subject-matter,  and  in  the  union  of  the 
two  he  wrought  his  success. 

As  we  approach  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century,  the 
lyrists  become  fewer.  The  Elizabethan  lyric,  whose  prov- 
ince was  the  whole  world,  which  dignified  great  or  petty 
themes  alike  with  its  fervid  sincerity,  has  given  place  to  a 
product  more  and  more  restricted  to  a  conventional  treat- 
ment of  subjects  within  an  ever-narrowing  range.  An  occa- 
sional poet,  absorbed  in  another  art,  like  Thomas  Flatman,  a 
man  of  genuine  poetic  spirit,  might  neglect  to  learn  the 
mannerisms  of  contemporary  poetic  craft ;  or,  living  without 
the  popular  literary  current,  might  sing,  as  did  Norris  of 
Bemerton,  a  slender,  independent  strain.  But  in  the  main 
the  lyric  had  ceased  to  be  an  instrument  for  the  expression 


Ixviii  INTRODUCTION. 

of  literary  thought,  although  it  remained  a  plaything  for  the 
idle  hours  of  writers  whose  business  was  with  occasional 
verse,  social  satire,  heroic  drama,  or  the  comedy  of  a  "  Utopia 
of  gallantry."  To  Dorset,  Sedley,  Rochester,  and  Aphara 
Behn,  a  dissolute,  cynical,  godless  rout  of  Comus  —  even  to 
Dryden  himself  —  a  lyric  is  a  love-song  and  nothing  more. 
It  may  be  languishing  or  disdainful,  passionate  or  satirical  ; 
whether  frank  or  indirect  in  its  animalism,  the  subject  is 
ever  love,  or  what  went  by  that  much-abused  name  in  the 
reign  of  the  Merry  Monarch.  Although  the  true  note  recurs 
occasionally  in  the  faltering  quavers  of  Anne,  Marchioness 
of  Wharton,  or  the  stronger  tones  of  Katherine  Philips,  John 
Wilson  the  dramatist,  or  John  Oldmixon,  it  is  not  too  much 
to  say  that  the  lyric  had  all  but  disappeared  from  English 
literature  before  the  year  1700.  A  style  the  essence  of 
which  is  surprise,  which  demands  the  snap  of  the  cracker  of 
wit  in  every  couplet  and  yet  maintains  a  rigid  adherence  to 
conventions  in  metre,  phrase,  and  manner,  is  precisely  the 
style  to  destroy  the  lyric,  the  soul  of  which  is  its  simplicity, 
artistic  freedom,  and  inevitability.  Aside  from  an  occa- 
sional instance  in  which  the  poetry  which  was  in  the  heart 
of  John  Dryden  asserted  itself,  despite  his  sophistication  and 
venal  following  of  the  lower  tastes  of  his  age,  and  aside 
from  a  few  sincere  and  dainty  little  lyrics  that  Matthew 
Prior  threw  off  in  the  intervals  of  his  supposedly  more  valu- 
able labors  in  epic  and  occasional  verse,  there  is  scarcely  a 
lyric  of  the  last  quarter  of  the  seventeenth  century,  from  the 
hand  of  those  poets  who  were  in  the  prevailing  mode,  which 
rings  unmistakably  true.  When  Congreve,  after  repeating 
the  hackneyed  comparison  of  the  rise  of  the  sun  with  the 
rising  of  Sabrina,  distinguishes  the  effects  of  these  two 
luminaries  upon  mankind  by  exclaiming 

How  many  by  his  warmth  will  live  ! 
How  many  will  her  coldness  kill ! 


INTRODUCTION.  Ixix 

we  are  tickled  with  his  wit,  if  we  have  not  neard  the  thing 
too  often.  To  be  moved  by  the  simple  and  beautiful  expres- 
sion of  an  emotion  which  we  are  fain  to  repeat  again  and 
again  because  of  the  pleasure  it  gives  us,  is  to  be  moved  as 
poetry  can  move.  To  witness  the  pyrotechnics  of  the  most 
consummate  wit  and  ingenuity  once  is  enough;  the  fuse  and 
powder  are  consumed,  and  nothing  but  the  dead  design,  sul- 
lied with  smoke,  is  left.  What  is  worse,  we  have  not  always 
the  pyrotechnics  of  wit,  but  too  commonly,  in  the  lyric  of 
this  age,  a  false  product  written  with  the  rhetorician's  con- 
descension to  what  he  feels  an  inferior  species  of  litera- 
ture, a  condescension  like  to  nothing  but  the  contemporary 
attitude  towards  the  inferior  capacity  and  understanding  of 
"females,"  with  its  mingled  air  of  flattery  and  gallantry, 
itself  an  affront.  Thus  after  a  sojourn  with  the  Elizabethan 
and  seventeenth-century  lyrists  it  becomes  difficult  to  sup- 
port the  insipidity  of  this  later  literature  of  Chloe,  Celia,  and 
Dorinda,  unless  it  be  seasoned  with  the  salt  of  cynicism, 
and  then  the  product  turns  out  to  be  something  else,  a  some- 
thing, whatever  its  merit,  forever  untranslatable  into  the 
terms  of  true  poetry. 


SEVENTEENTH    CENTURY    LYRICS. 


o»ic 


Ben  Jonson,  Pan's  Anniversary, 
1631;  acted  before  1625. 

THE   SHEPHERDS'   HOLIDAY.    . 

Thus,  thus  begin  the  yearly  rites 
Are  due  to  Pan  on  these  bright  nights ; 
His  morn  now  riseth  and  invites 
To  sports,  to  dances,  and  delights : 

All  envious  and  profane,  away,  S 

This  is  the  shepherds'  holiday. 

Strew,  strew  the  glad  and  smiling  ground 

With  every  flower,  yet  not  confound  ; 

The  primrose-drop,  the  spring's  own  spouse, 

Bright  day's-eyes  and  the  lips  of  cows,  1° 

The  garden-star,  the  queen  of  May, 

The  rose,  to  crown  the  holiday. 

Drop,  drop,  you  violets ;  change  your  hues, 

Now  red,  now  pale,  as  lovers  use  ; 

And  in  your  death  go  out  as  well  *S 

As  when  you  lived  unto  the  smell. 

That  from  your  odor  all  may  say, 

This  is  the  shepherds'  holiday. 


SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 


HYMN 


Of  Pan  we  sing,  the  best  of  singers,  Pan, 

That  taught  us  swains  how  first  to  tune  our  lays, 

And  on  the  pipe  more  airs  than  Phoebus  can. 

Hear,  O  you  groves,  and  hills  resound  his  praise. 

Of  Pan  we  sing,  the  best  of  leaders.  Pan,  5 

That  leads  the  Naiads  and  the  Dryads  forth  ; 

And  to  their  dances  more  than  Hermes  can. 

Hear,  O  you  groves,  and  hills  resound  his  worth. 

Of  Pan  we  sing,  the  best  of  hunters,  Pan, 

That  drives  the  hart  to  seek  unused  ways,  lo 

And  in  the  chase  more  than  Silvanus  can. 

Hear,  O  you  groves,  and  hills  resound  his  praise. 

Of  Pan  we  sing,  the  best  of  shepherds,  Pan, 

That  keeps  our  flocks  and  us,  and  both  leads  forth 
To  better  pastures  than  great  Pales  can.  15 

Hear,  O  you  groves,  and  hills  resound  his  worth  ; 
And,  while  his  powers  and  praises  thus  we  sing, 
The  valleys  let  rebound  and  all  the  rivers  ring. 


Thomas  Dekker,  The  Sun's 
Darling,  1656  ;  written  before 
1625. 

COUNTRY  GLEE. 

Haymakers,  rakers,  reapers,  and  mowers, 

Wait  on  your  summer-queen  ; 
Dress  up  with  musk-rose  her  eglantine  bowers. 

Daffodils  strew  the  green  ; 


THOMAS  DEKKER.  3 

Sing,  dance,  and  play,  5 

'T  is  holiday  ; 
The  sun  does  bravely  shine 
On  our  ears  of  corn. 

Rich  as  a  pearl 

Comes  every  girl :  lo 

This  is  mine  !  this  is  mine  !   this  is  mine ! 
Let  us  die,  ere  away  they  be  borne. 

Bow  to  the  sun,  to  our  queen,  and  that  fair  one 

Come  to  behold  our  sports  : 
Each  bonny  lass  here  is  counted  a  rare  one,  ^5 

As  those  in  princes'  courts. 
These  and  we 
With  country  glee, 
Will  teach  the  woods  to  resound, 

And  the  hills  with  echo's  holloa  :  20 

Skipping  lambs 
Their  bleating  dams, 
'Mongst  kids  shall  trip  it  round  ; 
For  joy  thus  our  wenches  we  follow. 

Wind,  jolly  huntsmen,  your  neat  bugles  shrilly,  25 

Hounds  make  a  lusty  cry  ; 
Spring  up,  you  falconers,  the  partridges  freely, 
Then  let  your  brave  hawks  fly. 
Horses  amain, 

Over  ridge,  over  plain,  3° 

The  dogs  have  the  stag  in  chase  : 
'T  is  a  sport  to  content  a  king. 

So  ho  ho  !  through  the  skies 
How  the  proud  bird  flies, 
And  sousing  kills  with  a  grace  !  35 

Now  the  deer  falls  ;  hark,  how  they  ring ! 


SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

CAST  AWAY  CARE. 

Cast  away  care,  he  that  loves  sorrow 
Lengthens  not  a  day,  nor  can  buy  to-morrow ; 
Money  is  trash  ;  and  he  that  will  spend  it, 
Let  him  drink  merrily,  Fortune  will  send  it. 

Merrily,  merrily,  merrily,  O  ho  !  5 

Play  it  off  stiffly,  we  may  not  part  so. 

Wine  is  a  charm,  it  heats  the  blood  too, 
Cowards  it  will  arm,  if  the  wine  be  good  too ; 
Quickens  the  wit,  and  makes  the  back  able. 
Scorns  to  submit  to  the  watch  or  constable.  lo 

Merrily,  merrily,  merrily,  O  ho ! 

Play  it  off  stiffly,  we  may  not  part  so. 

Pots  fly  about,  give  us  more  liquor, 
Brothers  of  a  rout,  our  brains  will  flow  quicker  ; 
Empty  the  cask  ;  score  up,  we  care  not ;  15 

Fill  all  the  pots  again  ;  drink  on  and  spare  not. 

Merrily,  merrily,  merrily,  O  ho  ! 

Play  it  off  stiffly,  we  may  not  part  so. 


From  Christ  Church  JlfS.  I.  4.  78  ; 
date  uncertain. 

TO    TIME. 

Victorious  Time,  whose  winged  feet  do  fly 
More  swift  than  eagles  in  the  azure  sky, 
Haste  to  thy  prey,  why  art  thou  tardy  now 
When  all  things  to  thy  powerful  fate  do  bow  1 
O  give  an  end  to  cares  and  killing  fears, 
Shake  thy  dull  sand,  unravel  those  few  years 


THOMAS   MAY. 


Are  yet  untold,  since  nought  but  discontents 
Clouds  all  our  earthly  joys  with  sad  laments, 
That,  when  thy  nimble  hours  shall  cease  to  be. 
We  may  be  crowned  with  blest  eternity. 


Thomas  May,   The  Old  Couple, 
1658;  acted  1625. 

LOVE'S   PRIME. 

Dear,  do  not  your  fair  beauty  wrong 

In  thinking  still  you  are  too  young  ; 

The  rose  and  lily  in  your  cheek 

Flourish,  and  no  more  ripening  seek  ; 

Those  flaming  beams  shot  from  your  eye 

Do  show  love's  midsummer  is  nigh  ; 

Your  cherry-lip,  red,  soft,  and  sweet, 

Proclaims  such  fruit  for  taste  is  meet ; 

Love  is  still  young,  a  buxom  boy, 

And  younglings  are  allowed  to  toy  ;  ' 

Then  lose  no  time,  for  Love  hath  wings 

And  flies  away  from  aged  things. 


Edmund  Waller,  Poems,  1645; 
written  1627. 

SONG. 

Stay,  Phoebus,  stay ! 
The  world  to  which  you  Hy  so  fast. 

Conveying  day 
From  us  to  them,  can  pay  your  haste 
With  no  such  object,  nor  salute  your  rise 
With  no  such  wonder  as  De  Mornay's  eyes. 


SEVENTEEA'TH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Well  does  this  prove 
The  error  of  those  antique  books 

Which  made  you  move 
About  the  world  :  her  charming  looks 
Would  fix  your  beams,  and  make  it  ever  day, 
Did  not  the  rolling  earth  snatch  her  away. 


James  Shirley,  The  Witty  Fair 
Ofie,  1633 ;  acted  162S. 

LOVE'S    HUE    AND    CRY. 

In  Love's  name  you  are  charged  hereby 

To  make  a  speedy  hue  and  cry 

After  a  face,  who  t'  other  day, 

Came  and  stole  my  heart  away. 

For  your  directions  in  brief  . 

These  are  best  marks  to  know  the  thief : 

Her  hair  a  net  of  beams  would  prove 

Strong  enough  to  captive  Jove 

Playing  the  eagle  ;  her  clear  brow 

Is  a  comely  field  of  snow ;  10 

A  sparkling  eye,  so  pure  a  gray 

As  when  it  shines  it  needs  no  day ; 

Ivory  dwelleth  on  her  nose  ; 

Lilies,  married  to  the  rose. 

Have  made  her  cheek  the  nuptial  bed  ;  15 

[Her]  lips  betray  their  virgin's  weed. 

As  they  only  blushed  for  this. 

That  they  one  another  kiss. 

But  observe,  beside  the  rest, 

You  shall  know  this  felon  best  20 


JOHN  FOKD.  7 

By  her  tongue  ;  for  if  your  ear 

Shall  once  a  heavenly  music  hear, 

Such  as  neither  gods  nor  men 

But  from  that  voice  shall  hear  again, 

That,  that  is  she,  O  take  her  t'ye,  25 

None  can  rock  heaven  asleep  but  she. 


John   Ford,   T/ie  Lover's  Melan- 
choly, 1629;  acted  1628. 

FLY  HENCE,    SHADOWS. 

Fly  hence,  shadows,  that  do  keep 
Watchful  sorrows  charmed  in  sleep. 
Though  the  eyes  be  overtaken. 
Yet  the  heart  doth  ever  waken 
Thoughts,  chained  up  in  busy  snares 
Of  continual  woes  and  cares  : 
Love  and  griefs  are  so  exprest 
As  they  rather  sigh  than  rest. 
Fly  hence,  shadows,  that  do  keep 
Watchful  sorrows  charmed  in  sleep. 

John    Ford,  The  Bioketi   Heart, 
1633  ;  acted  about  1629. 

A    BRIDAL    SONG. 

Comforts  lasting,  loves  increasing, 
Like  soft  hours  never  ceasing  ; 
Plenty's  pleasure,  peace  complying, 
Without  jars,  or  tongues  envying ; 
Hearts  by  holy  union  wedded, 
More  than  theirs  by  custom  bedded ; 


SEVENTEENTH   CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Fruitful  issues  ;   life  so  graced, 

Not  by  age  to  be  defaced  ; 

Budding  as  the  year  ensu'th, 

Every  spring  another  youth  :  lo 

All  what  thought  can  add  beside, 

Crown  this  bridegroom  and  this  bride. 

SONG. 

O,  NO  more,  no  more,  too  late 

Sighs  are  spent;  the  burning  tapers 

Of  a  life  as  chaste  as  Fate, 
Pure  as  are  unwritten  papers, 

Are  burnt  out ;  no  heat,  no  light  5 

Now  remains;   't  is  ever  night. 

Love  is  dead ;  let  lovers'  eyes. 

Locked  in  endless  dreams, 

Th'  extremes  of  all  extremes, 
Ope  no  more,  for  now  Love  dies.  10 

Now  Love  dies  —  implying 
Love's  martyrs  must  be  ever,  ever  dying. 

DIRGE. 

Glories,  pleasures,  pomps,  delights,  and  ease 
Can  but  please 
Outward  senses,  when  the  mind 
Is  untroubled  or  by  peace  refined. 
Crowns  may  flourish  and  decay,  5 

Beauties  shine,  but  fade  away. 
Youth  may  revel,  yet  it  must 
Lie  down  in  a  bed  of  dust. 
Earthly  honors  flow  and  waste, 
Time  alone  doth  change  and  last.  10 


THOMAS   GO  FEE. 

Sorrows  mingled  with  contents  prepare 
Rest  for  care  ; 
Love  only  reigns  in  death  ;  though  art 
Can  find  no  comfort  for  a  broken  heart. 


Thomas  Goffe,  The  Careless 
Shepherdess,  1656;  written 
before  1629. 

SYLVIA'S    BOVVER. 

Come,  shepherds,  come,  impale  your  brows 
With  garlands  of  the  choicest  flowers 

The  time  allows  ; 
Come,  nymphs,  decked  in  your  dangling  hair. 
And  unto  Sylvia's  shady  bower 

With  haste  repair ; 
Where  you  shall  see  chaste  turtles  play. 
And  nightingales  make  lasting  May, 
As  if  old  Time  his  useful  mind 
To  one  delighted  season  had  confined. 


Robert  Herrick,  Hesperides, 
1648  ;  written  before  1629. 

TO    DIANEME. 

Sweet,  be  not  proud  of  those  two  eyes. 
Which,  star-like,  sparkle  in  their  skies ; 
Nor  be  you  proud  that  you  can  see 
All  hearts  your  captives,  yours  yet  free ; 


10  SEVENTEENTH   CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Be  you  not  proud  of  that  rich  hair,  5 

Which  wantons  with  the  love-sick  air; 

Whenas  that  ruby  which  you  wear, 

Sunk  from  the  tip  of  your  soft  ear. 

Will  last  to  be  a  precious  stone, 

When  all  your  world  of  beauty  's  gone.  'o 

CORINNA'S    GOING    A-MAYING. 

Get  up,  get  up  for  shame,  the  blooming  morn 
Upon  her  wings  presents  the  god  unshorn. 

See  how  Aurora  throws  her  fair 

Fresh-quilted  colors  through  the  air ! 

Get  up,  sweet  slug-a-bed,  and  see  5 

The  dew  bespangling  herb  and  tree. 
Each  flower  has  wept,  and  bowed  toward  the  east, 
Above  an  hour  since  ;  yet  you  not  drest, 

Nay!  not  so  much  as  out  of  bed.^ 

When  all  the  birds  have  matins  said,  lo 

And  sung  their  thankful  hymns  ;  'tis  sin, 

Nay,  profanation  to  keep  in, 
Whenas  a  thousand  virgins  on  this  day 
Spring,  sooner  than  the  lark,  to  fetch  in  May. 

Rise,  and  put  on  your  foliage,  and  be  seen  15 

To  come  forth,  like  the  spring-time,  fresh  and  green 

And  sweet  as  Flora.     Take  no  care 

For  jewels  for  your  gown  or  hair  ; 

Fear  not,  the  leaves  will  strew 

Gems  in  abundance  upon  you ;  •  20 

Besides,  the  childhood  of  the  day  has  kept. 
Against  you  come,  some  orient  pearls  unwept ; 

Come,  and  receive  them  while  the  light 

Hangs  on  the  dew-locks  of  the  night, 


ROBERT  HERRICK.  11 

And  Titan  on  the  eastern  hill  25 

Retires  himself,  or  else  stands  still 
Till  you  come  forth.     Wash,  dress,  be  brief  in  praying  : 
Few  beads  are  best,  when  once  we  go  a-Maying. 

Come,  my  Corinna,  come  ;  and  coming  mark 

How  each  field  turns  a  street,  each  street  a  park  3° 

Made  green,  and  trimmed  with  trees  ;  see  how 

Devotion  gives  each  house  a  bough 

Or  branch ;  each  porch,  each  door,  ere  this 

An  ark,  a  tabernacle  is, 
Made  up  of  white-thorn  neatly  enterwove,  35 

As  if  here  were  those  cooler  shades  of  love. 

Can  such  delights  be  in  the  street 

And  open  fields,  and  we  not  see  't? 

Come,  we  '11  abroad,  and  let 's  obey 

The  proclamation  made  for  May,  40 

And  sin  no  more,  as  we  have  done,  by  staying ; 
But,  my  Corinna,  come,  let 's  go  a-Maying. 

There  's  not  a  budding  boy  or  girl,  this  day, 
But  is  got  up  and  gone  to  bring  in  May. 

A  deal  of  youth,  ere  this,  is  come  45 

Back,  and  with  white-thorn  laden  home. 

Some  have  dispatched  their  cakes  and  cream, 

Before  that  we  have  left  to  dream  ; 
And  some  have  wept,  and  woo'd,  and  plighted  troth, 
And  chose  their  priest,  ere  we  can  cast  off  sloth.  5° 

Many  a  green-gown  has  been  given  ; 

Many  a  kiss,  both  odd  and  even  ; 

Many  a  glance  too  has  been  sent 

From  out  the  eye,  love's  firmament ; 
Many  a  jest  told  of  the  key's  betraying  55 

This  night,  and  locks  picked,  yet  w'  are  not  a-Maying. 


12  SEVENTEENTH   CENTURY  /A'RICS. 

Come,  let  us  go,  while  we  are  in  our  prime. 
And  take  the  harmless  folly  of  the  time. 

We  shall  grow  old  apace  and  die 

Before  we  know  our  liberty.  60 

Our  life  is  short,  and  our  days  run 

As  fast  away  as  does  the  sun, 
And  as  a  vapor,  or  a  drop  of  rain. 
Once  lost  can  ne'er  be  found  again  ; 

So  when  or  you  or  I  are  made  65 

A  fable,  song,  or  fleeting  shade, 

All  love,  all  liking,  all  delight. 

Lies  drown'd  with  us  in  endless  night. 
Then  while  time  serves,  and  we  are  but  decaying ; 
Come,  my  Corinna,  come,  let 's  go  a-Maying.  70 

NIGHT    PIECE,    TO    JULIA. 

Her  eyes  the  glow-worm  lend  thee. 
The  shooting  stars  attend  thee, 

And  the  elves  also, 

Whose  little  eyes  glow 
Like  the  sparks  of  fire,  befriend  thee.  5 

No  will-o'-th'-wisp  mislight  thee ; 
Nor  snake  or  slow-worm  bite  thee ; 

But  on,  on  thy  way, 

Not  making  a  stay. 
Since  ghost  there  's  none  to  affright  thee.  10 

Let  not  the  dark  thee  cumber; 

What  though  the  moon  does  slumber; 

The  stars  of  the  night 

Will  lend  thee  their  light. 
Like  tapers  clear  without  number.  15 


ROBERT  HER  RICK.  13 

Then  Julia,  let  me  woo  thee, 
Thus,  thus  to  come  unto  me : 

And  when  I  shall  meet 

Thy  silv'ry  feet. 
My  soul  I  '11  pour  into  thee.  20 

TO    ELECTRA. 

I  DARE  not  ask  a  kiss, 

I  dare  not  beg  a  smile, 
Lest  having  that,  or  this, 

I  might  grow  proud  the  while. 

No,  no,  the  utmost  share  s 

Of  my  desire  shall  be 
Only  to  kiss  that  air. 

That  lately  kissed  thee. 


Robert  Herrick,  in  Wit's  Rec- 
reations, ed.  1641  ;  written  be- 
fore 1629. 

A   HYMN    TO    LOVE. 

I  WILL  confess 

With  cheerfulness, 
Love  is  a  thing  so  likes  me, 

That,  let  her  lay 

On  me  all  day, 
I  '11  kiss  the  hand  that  strikes  me. 

I  will  not,  I, 

Now  blubb'ring  cry : 


14  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

'  It,  ah  !  too  late  repents  me 

That  I  did  fall  lo 

To  love  at  all, 
Since  love  so  much  contents  me.' 

No,  no,  I  '11  be 

In  fetters  free  ; 
While  others  they  sit  wringing  15 

Their  hands  for  pain, 

I  '11  entertain 
The  wounds  of  love  with  singing. 

With  flowers  and  wine. 

And  cakes  divine,  20 

To  strike  me  I  will  tempt  thee; 

Which  done,  no  more 

I  '11  come  before 
Thee  and  thine  altars  empty. 


Thomas  Dekker,  London's 
Tempe,  1629. 

SONG    OF   THE    CYCLOPS. 

Brave  iron,  brave  hammer,  from  your  sound 

The  art  of  music  has  her  ground  ; 

On  the  anvil  thou  keep'st  time. 

Thy  knick-a-knock  is  a  smith's  best  chime. 

Yet  thwick-a-thwack,  thwick,  thwack-a-thwack,  thwack,     5 

Make  our  brawny  sinews  crack  : 

Then  pit-a-pat,  pat,  pit-a-pat,  pat. 

Till  thickest  bars  be  beaten  flat. 


THOMAS  DEKKER.  IS 

We  shoe  the  horses  of  the  sun, 

Harness  the  dragons  of  the  moon  ;  'o 

Forge  Cupid's  quiver,  bow,  and  arrows. 
And  our  dame's  coach  that 's  drawn  with  sparrows. 
Till  thwick-a-thwack,  etc. 

Jove's  roaring  cannons  and  his  rammers 
We  beat  out  with  our  Lemnian  hammers  ;  ^5 

Mars  his  gauntlet,  helm,  and  spear, 
And  Gorgon  shield  are  all  made  here. 
Till  thwick-a-thwack,  etc. 

The  grate  which,  shut,  the  day  outbars, 
Those  golden  studs  which  nail  the  stars,  20 

The  globe's  case  and  the  axle-tree, 
Who  can  hammer  these  but  we  ? 
Till  thwick-a-thwack,  etc. 

A  warming-pan  to  heat  earth's  bed. 

Lying  i'  th'  frozen  zone  half-dead ;  25 

Hob-nails  to  serve  the  man  i'  th'  moon. 

And  sparrowbills  to  clout  Pan's  shoon, 

Whose  work  but  ours  ? 

Till  thwick-a-thwack,  etc. 

Venus'  kettles,  pots,  and  pans  3° 

We  make,  or  else  she  brawls  and  bans  ; 
Tongs,  shovels,  andirons  have  their  places. 
Else  she  scratches  all  our  faces. 

Till  thwick-a-thwack,  thwick,  thwack-a-thwack,  thwack, 

Make  our  brawny  sinews  crack  :  35 

Then  pit-a-pat,  pat,  pit-a-pat,  pat, 

Till  thickest  bars  be  beaten  flat. 


16  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Ben  Jonson,  The  Nexv  Inn,  1631; 
acted  1629. 

PERFECT  BEAUTY. 

It  was  a  beauty  that  I  saw 

So  pure,  so  perfect,  as  the  frame 
Of  all  the  universe  was  lame 

To  that  one  figure,  could  I  draw. 

Or  give  least  line  of  it  a  law.  5 

A  skein  of  silk  without  a  knot, 

A  fair  march  made  without  a  halt, 

A  curious  form  without  a  fault, 

A  printed  book  without  a  blot, 

All  beauty,  and  without  a  spot.  10 


From  Dr.  Juhn  Wilson's  Cheer- 
ful  Airs  or  Ballads,  1 660  ;  writ- 
ten before  1630. 

THE   EXPOSTULATION. 

Greedv  lover,  pause  awhile. 
And  remember  that  a  smile 

Heretofore 
Would  have  made  thy  hopes  a  feast  ; 

Which  is  more 
Since  thy  diet  was  increased. 
Than  both  looks  and  language  too. 
Or  the  face  itself,  can  do. 

Such  a  province  is  my  hand 
As,  if  it  thou  couldst  command 

Heretofore, 
There  thy  lips  would  seem  to  dwell; 


JOHN  WILSON.  ly 

Which  is  more, 
Ever  since  they  sped  so  well, 
Than  they  can  be  brought  to  do  ^5 

By  my  neck  and  bosom  too. 

If  the  centre  of  my  breast, 
A  dominion  unpossessed 

Heretofore, 
May  thy  wandering  thoughts  suffice,  20 

Seek  no  more, 
And  my  heart  shall  be  thy  prize  : 
So  thou  keep  above  the  line, 
All  the  hemisphere  is  thine. 

If  the  flames  of  love  were  pure  ^5 

Which  by  oath  thou  didst  assure 

Heretofore, 
Gold  that  goes  into  the  clear 

Shines  the  more 
When  it  leaves  again  the  fire  :  3° 

Let  not  then  those  looks  of  thine 
Blemish  what  they  should  refine. 

I  have  cast  into  the  fire 
Almost  all  thou  couldst  desire 

Heretofore ;  35 

But  I  see  thou  art  to  crave 

More  and  more. 
Should  I  cast  in  all  I  have. 
So  that  I  were  ne'er  so  free. 
Thou  wouldst  burn,  though  not  for  me.  4° 


18  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 


LOVE'S  IDOLATRY. 

When  I  behold  my  mistress'  face, 
Where  beauty  hath  her  dweUing-place, 
And  see  those  seeing  stars  her  eyes, 
In  whom  love's  fire  for  ever  lies. 
And  hear  her  witty,  charming  words 
Her  sweet  tongue  to  mine  ear  affords, 
Methinks  he  wants  wit,  ears,  and  eyes 
Whom  love  makes  not  idolatrise. 


LOVE    WITH  EYES  AND   HEART. 

When  on  mine  eyes  her  eyes  first  shone, 

I  all  amazed 

Steadily  gazed, 
And  she  to  make  me  more  amazed, 
So  caught,  so  wove,  four  eyes  in  one 
As  who  had  with  advisement  seen  us 
Would  have  admired  love's  equal  force  between  us. 

But  treason  in  those  friend-like  eyes. 

My  heart  first  charming 

And  then  disarming. 
So  maimed  it,  e'er  it  dreamed  of  harming, 
As  at  her  mercy  now  it  lies. 
And  shews  me,  to  my  endless  smart, 
She  loved  but  with  her  eyes,  I  with  my  heart. 


ANONYMOUS.  19 


From  Egerton  MS.,  2013;  author 
and  date  unknown. 


WE  MUST  NOT  PART  AS   OTHERS  DO. 

We  must  not  part  as  others  do, 
With  sighs  and  tears  as  we  were  two. 
Though  with  these  outward  forms  we  part, 
We  keep  each  other  in  our  heart. 
What  search  hath  found  a  being,  where 
I  am  not,  if  that  thou  be  there  ? 

True  Love  hath  wings,  and  can  as  soon 
Survey  the  world,  as  sun  and  moon ; 
And  everywhere  our  triumphs  keep 
Over  absence,  which  makes  others  weep: 
By  which  alone  a  power  is  given 
To  live  on  earth,  as  they  in  heaven. 


STAY,    STAY,    OLD    TIME. 

Stay,  stay,  old  Time  !  repose  thy  restless  wings, 
Pity  thyself,  though  thou  obdurate  be. 
And  wilfully  wear'st  out  all  other  things. 
Stay,  and  behold  a  face,  which,  but  to  see, 
Will  make  thee  shake  off  half  a  world  of  days, 
And  wearied  pinions  feather  with  new  plumes. 
Lay  down  thy  sandy  glass,  that  never  stays. 
And  cruel  crooked  scythe,  that  all  consumes. 
To  gaze  on  her,  more  lovely  than  Apollo. 
Renew  thyself,  continue  still  her  youth, 
O,  stay  with  her,  (and  him  no  longer  follow) 
That  is  as  beauteous  as  thy  darling  Truth. 


20  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Robert  Herrick,  in  Wit's  Recrea- 
tion, ed.  1641  ;  written  before  1630. 

UPON    A    MAID. 

Here  she  lies,  in  bed  of  spice, 
Fair  as  Eve  in  Paradise  ; 
For  her  beauty,  it  was  such 
Poets  could  not  praise  too  much. 
Virgins,  come,  and  in  a  ring 
Her  supremest  requiem  sing; 
Then  depart,  but  see  ye  tread 
Lightly,  lightly  o'er  the  dead. 


John  Milton,  Poems  both  Eng- 
lish and  Latin,  1645;  written 
1629-31. 

ON    TIME. 

TO    BE    SET    ON    A    CLOCK-CASE. 

Fly,  envious  Time,  till  thou  run  out  thy  race ! 
Call  on  the  lazy  leaden-stepping  Hours, 
Whose  speed  is  but  the  heavy  plummet's  pace. 
And  glut  thyself  with  what  thy  womb  devours. 
Which  is  no  more  than  what  is  false  and  vain 

And  merely  mortal  dross  ; 

So  little  is  our  loss. 

So  little  is  thy  gain  ! 
For  whenas  each  thing  bad  thou  hast  entombed, 
And,  last  of  all,  thy  greedy  self  consumed. 
Then  long  Eternity  shall  greet  our  bliss 

With  an  individual  kiss. 


JOHN  MILTON.  21 

And  joy  shall  overtake  us  as  a  flood, 
When  everything  that  is  sincerely  good 

And  perfectly  divine,  '5 

With  Truth,  and  Peace,  and  Love,  shall  ever  shine 

About  the  supreme  throne 
Of  him,  t'  whose  happy-making  sight  alone 
When  once  our  heavenly-guided  soul  shall  climb 

Then,  all  this  earthly  grossness  quit,  20 

Attired  with  stars  we  shall  for  ever  sit. 
Triumphing  over  Death,  and  Chance,  and  thee,  O  Time  ! 

SONG    ON    MAY    MORNING. 

Now  the  bright  morning  star,  day's  harbinger. 
Comes  dancing  from  the  east,  and  leads  with  her 
The  flowery  May,  who  from  her  green  lap  throws 
The  yellow  cowslip  and  the  pale  primrose. 

Hail,  bounteous  May,  that  dost  inspire  5 

Mirth,  and  youth,  and  warm  desire  ; 

Woods  and  groves  are  of  thy  dressing, 

Hill  and  dale  both  boast  thy  blessing. 
Thus  we  salute  thee  with  our  early  song. 
And  welcome  thee,  and  wish  thee  long.  10 

John  Milton,  in  Mr.  William 
Shakespeare' s  Comedies,  Histo- 
ries, and  Tragedies,  ed.  1632; 
written  1630. 

AN    EPITAPH    ON    THE    ADMIRABLE    DRAMATIC 
POET,    WILLIAM    SHAKESPEARE. 

What  need  my  Shakespeare  for  his  honored  bones 
The  labor  of  an  age  in  piled  stones  ? 
Or  that  his  hallowed  relics  should  be  hid 
Under  a  star-ypointing  pyramid .? 


22  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Dear  son  of  memory,  great  heir  of  fame,  S 

What  need'st  thou  such  weak  witness  of  thy  name  ? 

Thou  in  our  wonder  and  astonishment, 

Hast  built  thyself  a  livelong  monument. 

For  whilst  to  the  shame  of  slow-endeavoring  art 

Thy  easy  numbers  flow,  and  that  each  heart  lo 

Hath  from  the  leaves  of  thy  unvalued  book 

Those  Delphic  lines  with  deep  impression  took ; 

Then  thou,  our  fancy  of  itself  bereaving. 

Dost  make  us  marble  with  too  much  conceiving; 

And,  so  sepulchred,  in  such  pomp  dost  lie,  15 

That  kings  for  such  a  tomb  would  wish  to  die. 


John  Milton,  Poems  both  English 
and  Latin,  1645;  written  1630-31. 

SONNETS. 


TO    THE    NIGHTINGALE. 

O  NIGHTINGALE,  that  on  yon  bloomy  spray 
Warblest  at  eve,  when  all  the  woods  are  still ; 
Thou  with  fresh  hope  the  lover's  heart  dost  fill, ' 
While  the  jolly  Hours  lead  on  propitious  May. 
Thy  liquid  notes  that  close  the  eye  of  day, 
First  heard  before  the  shallow  cuckoo's  bill, 
Portend  success  in  love ;  O,  if  Jove's  will 
Have  linked  that  amorous  power  to  thy  soft  lay. 
Now  timely  sing,  ere  the  rude  bird  of  hate 
Foretell  my  hopeless  doom  in  some  grove  nigh ; 
As  thou  from  year  to  year  hast  sung  too  late 
For  my  relief,  yet  hadst  no  reason  why: 
Whether  the  Muse,  or  Love,  call  thee  his  mate. 
Both  them  I  serve,  and  of  their  train  am  I. 


PHILIP  MASSINGER.  23 

II. 

ON    HIS    BEING    ARRIVED    TO    THE    AGE    OF   TWENTY-THREE. 

How  soon  hath  Time,  the  subtle  thief  of  youth, 

Stolen  on  his  wing  my  three  and  twentieth  year ! 

My  hasting  days  fly  on  with  full  career, 

But  my  late  spring  no  bud  or  blossom  shew'th. 

Perhaps  my  semblance  might  deceive  the  truth,  5 

That  I  to  manhood  am  arrived  so  near; 

And  inward  ripeness  doth  much  less  appear, 

That  some  more  timely-happy  spirits  endu'th. 

Yet  be  it  less  or  more,  or  soon  or  slow. 

It  shall  be  still  in  strictest  measure  even  lo 

To  that  same  lot,  however  mean  or  high. 

Toward  which  Time  leads  me,  and  the  will  of  heaven : 

All  is,  if  I  have  grace  to  use  it  so, 

As  ever  in  my  great  Taskmaster's  eye. 


Philip  Massinger,  The  Emperor 
of  the  East,  1632  ;  acted  1631. 

DEATH  INVOKED. 

Why  art  thou  slow,  thou  rest  of  trouble,  Death, 

To  stop  a  wretch's  breath, 
That  calls  on  thee,  and  offers  her  sad  heart 

A  prey  unto  thy  dart  ? 
I  am  nor  young  nor  fair ;  be,  therefore,  bold  : 

Sorrow  hath  made  me  old. 
Deformed,  and  wrinkled  ;  all  that  I  can  crave 

Is  quiet  in  my  grave. 


24  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Such  as  live  happy,  hold  long  life  a  jewel ; 

But  to  me  thou  art  cruel  lo 

If  thou  end  not  my  tedious  misery 

And  I  soon  cease  to  be. 
Strike,  and  strike  home,  then  !  pity  unto  me, 
In  one  short  hour's  delay,  is  tyranny. 


Richard   Brome,   The  A^ortherti 
Lass,  1632;  written  1631. 

HUMILITY. 

Nor  Love  nor  Fate  dare  I  accuse 

For  that  my  love  did  me  refuse, 

But  O  !  mine  own  unworthiness 

That  durst  presume  so  mickle  bliss. 

It  was  too  much  for  me  to  love  5 

A  man  so  like  the  gods  above : 

An  angel's  shape,  a  saint-like  voice, 

Are  too  divine  for  human  choice. 

0  had  I  wisely  given  my  heart 

For  to  have  loved  him  but  in  part ;  10 

Sought  only  to  enjoy  his  face, 

Or  any  one  peculiar  grace 

Of  foot,  of  hand,  of  lip,  or  eye,  — 

1  might  have  lived  where  now  I  die: 

But  I,  presuming  all  to  choose,  15 

Am  now  condemned  all  to  lose. 


RICHARD   BRATmVAITE.  25 


Richard  Brathwaite,  The  Eng- 
lish Gentlewoman,  1631. 

MOUNTING    HYPERBOLES. 

Skin  more  pure  than  Ida's  snow, 
Whiter  far  than  Moorish  milk, 
Sweeter  than  ambrosia  too, 
Softer  than  the  Paphian  silk, 
Indian  plumes  or  thistle-down, 
Or  May-blossoms  newly  blown, 
Is  my  mistress  rosy-pale, 
Adding  beauty  to  her  veil. 


James  Makbe,  Celestina,  1631. 
NOW  SLEEP,   AND    TAKE    THY  REST. 

Now  sleep,  and  take  thy  rest, 

Once  grieved  and  painM  wight. 
Since  she  now  loves  thee  best 

Who  is  thy  heart's  delight. 
Let  joy  be  thy  soul's  guest. 

And  care  be  banished  quite. 
Since  she  hath  thee  expressed 

To  be  her  favourite. 

WA/TIA'G. 

You  birds  whose  warblings  prove 

Aurora  draweth  near, 
Go  fly  and  tell  my  love 

That  I  expect  him  here. 


26  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

The  night  doth  posting  move, 
Yet  comes  he  not  again  : 

God  grant  some  other  love 
Do  not  my  love  detain. 


AuRELiAN    TowNSEND,   Albion's 
Triumph,  1631-32. 

MERCURY    COMPLAINING. 

Mercury. 
What  makes  me  so  unnimbly  rise, 

That  did  descend  so  fleet  ? 
There  is  no  uphill  in  the  skies, 

Clouds  stay  not  feathered  feet. 

Chorus. 
Thy  wings  are  singed,  and  thou  canst  fly 
But  slowly  now,  swift  Mercury. 

Afercury. 
Some  lady  here  is  sure  to  blame, 

That  from  Love's  starry  skies 
Hath  shot  some  beam  or  sent  some  flame 

Like  lightning  from  her  eyes. 

Chorus. 
Tax  not  the  stars  with  what  the  sun, 
Too  near  approached,  incensed,  hath  done. 

Mercury. 
I  '11  roll  me  in  Aurora's  dew 
Or  lie  in  Tethys'  bed. 


WALTER  PORTER.  11 

Or  from  cool  Iris  beg  a  few  15 

Pure  opal  showers  new  shed. 

Chorus. 

Nor  dew,  nor  showers,  nor  sea  can  slake 
Thy  quenchless  heat,  but  Lethe's  lake. 


From  Walter  Porter's  Madri- 
gals and  Airs,  1632. 

LOVE  LN  THY   YOUTH. 

Love  in  thy  youth,  fair  maid ;  be  wise, 

Old  Time  will  make  thee  colder. 
And  though  each  morning  new  arise 

Yet  we  each  day  grow  older. 
Thou  as  heaven  art  fair  and  young, 

Thine  eyes  lil^e  twin  stars  shining : 
But  ere  another  day  be  sprung, 

All  these  will  be  declining  ; 
Then  winter  comes  with  all  his  fears. 

And  all  thy  sweets  shall  borrow; 
Too  late  then  wilt  thou  shower  thy  tears, 

And  I  too  late  shall  sorrow. 

DISDAIN    RETURNED. 

He  that  loves  a  rosy  cheek. 

Or  a  coral  lip  admires. 
Or  from  starlike  eyes  doth  seek 

Fuel  to  maintain  his  fires ; 
As  old  Time  makes  these  decay. 
So  his  flames  must  waste  away. 


28  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

But  a  smooth  and  steadfast  mind, 
Gentle  thoughts  and  calm  desires, 

Hearts  with  equal  love  combined, 

Kindle  never-dying  fires.  lo 

Where  these  are  not,  I  despise 

Lovely  cheeks  or  lips  or  eyes. 

No  tears,  Celia,  now  shall  win 

My  resolved  heart  to  return; 
I  have  searched  thy  soul  within,  15 

And  find  naught  but  pride  and  scorn; 
I  have  learned  thy  arts,  and  now 

Can  disdain  as  much  as  thou. 
Some  power,  in  my  revenge,  convey 
That  love  to  her  I  cast  away.  20 


Peter  Hausted,   The  Rival 
Friends,  1632. 

HAVE    PITY,    GRIEF. 

Have  pity,  Grief ;  I  cannot  pay 

The  tribute  which  I  owe  thee,  tears; 
Alas  those  fountains  are  grown  dry. 
And  't  is  in  vain  to  hope  supply 
From  others'  eyes  ;  for  each  man  bears 
Enough  about  him  of  his  own 
To  spend  his  stock  of  tears  upon. 

Woo  then  the  heavens,  gentle  Love, 
To  melt  a  cloud  for  my  relief, 

Or  woo  the  deep,  or  woo  the  grave; 
Woo  what  thou  wilt,  so  I  may  have 


WILLIAM  HABINGTON.  29 


Wherewith  to  pay  my  debt,  for  Grief 
Has  vowed,  unless  I  quickly  pay, 
To  take  both  life  and  love  away. 


William  Habington,  Castara, 
Part  I,  ed.  1634;  written  about 
1632. 

TO    ROSES 
IN    THE    BOSOM    OF    CASTARA. 

Ye  blushing  virgins  happy  are 

In  the  chaste  nunn'ry  of  her  breasts, 

For  he  'd  prophane  so  chaste  a  fair 

Who  e'er  should  call  them  Cupid's  nests. 

Transplanted  thus,  how  bright  ye  grow,  5 

How  rich  a  perfume  do  ye  yield ! 
In  some  close  garden,  cowslips  so 

Are  sweeter  than  i'  th'  open  field. 

In  those  white  cloisters  live  secure 

From  the  rude  blasts  of  wanton  breath,  10 

Each  hour  more  innocent  and  pure. 

Till  you  shall  wither  into  death. 

Then  that  which  living  gave  you  room 

Your  glorious  sepulchre  shall  be. 
There  wants  no  marble  for  a  tomb,  15 

Whose  breast  hath  marble  been  to  me. 


30  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

UPON    CASTARA'S    DEPARTURE. 

Vows  are  vain;  no  suppliant  breath 

Stays  the  speed  of  swift-heeled  Death. 

Life  with  her  is  gone  and  I 

Learn  but  a  new  way  to  die. 

See  the  flowers  condole,  and  all  5 

Wither  in  my  funeral. 

The  bright  lily,  as  if  day. 

Parted  with  her,  fades  away; 

Violets  hang  their  heads  and  lose 

All  their  beauty  ;  that  the  rose  lo 

A  sad  part  in  sorrow  bears. 

Witness  all  those  dewy  tears. 

Which  as  pearl,  or  diamond  like, 

Swell  upon  her  blushing  cheek. 

All  things  mourn  ;  but  O  behold  iS 

How  the  withered  marigold 

Closeth  up  now  she  is  gone, 

Judging  her  the  setting  sun. 

Castara,  Part  II,  ed.  1634. 

TO    CASTARA    IN    A    TRANCE. 

Forsake  me  not  so  soon  ;  Castara  stay. 

And  as  I  break  the  prison  of  my  clay, 

I  '11  fill  the  canvas  with  m'  expiring  breath 

And  with  thee  sail  o'er  the  vast  main  of  death. 

Some  cherubim  thus  as  we  pass  shall  play:  S 

'  Go  happy  twins  of  love  ';  the  courteous  sea 

Shall  smooth  her  wrinkled  brow;  the  winds  shall  sleep 

Or  only  whisper  music  to  the  deep. 

Every  ungentle  rock  shall  melt  away. 

The  sirens  sing  to  please,  not  to  betray,  10 


WILLIAM  HABINGTON.  31 

Th'  indulgent  sky  shall  smile;  each  starry  choir 
Contend  which  shall  afford  the  brighter  fire; 
While  Love,  the  pilot,  steers  his  course  so  even, 
Ne'er  to  cast  anchor  till  we  reach  at  heaven. 

AGAINST   THEM    THAT    LAY    UNCHASTITY   TO 
THE    SEX    OF    WOMAN. 

They  meet  with  but  unwholesome  springs 

And  summers  which  infectious  are, 
They  hear  but  when  the  mermaid  sings. 

And  only  see  the  falling  star. 

Who  ever  dare  5 

Affirm  no  woman  chaste  and  fair. 

Go  cure  your  fevers,  and  you  '11  say 
The  dog-days  scorch  not  all  the  year; 

In  copper  mines  no  longer  stay 

But  travel  to  the  west  and  there  lo 

The  right  ones  see. 
And  grant  all  gold 's  not  alchemy. 

What  madman  'cause  the  glow-worm's  flame 
Is  cold,  swears  there  's  no  warmth  in  fire  ? 

'Cause  some  make  forfeit  of  their  name  15 

And  slave  themselves  to  man's  desire. 

Shall  the  sex,  free 
From  guilt,  damned  to  bondage  be  ? 

Nor  grieve,  Castara,  though  't  were  frail. 

Thy  virtue  then  would  brighter  shine,  20 

When  thy  example  should  prevail 
And  every  woman's  faith  be  thine : 

And  were  there  none, 
'T  is  majesty  to  rule  alone. 


32  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

George  Herbert,  The  Temple, 
1633;  written  between  1630  and 
1633. 

THE    ALTAR. 

A  BROKEN  altar,  Lord,  thy  servant  rears, 
Made  of  a  heart,  and  cemented  with  tears, 
Whose  parts  are  as  thy  hand  did  frame; 
No  workman's  tool  hath  touched  the  same. 

A  heart  alone  5 

Is  such  a  stone, 
As  nothing  but 
Thy  power  doth  cut. 
Wherefore  each  part 

Of  my  hard  heart  10 

Meets  in  this  frame, 
To  praise  thy  name  : 
That  if  I  chance  to  hold  my  peace 
These  stones  to  praise  thee  may  not  cease. 
O,  let  thy  blessed  sacrifice  be  mine,  15 

And  sanctify  this  altar  to, be  thine! 

EASTER    WINGS. 

Lord,  who  createdst  man  in  wealth  and  store, 
Though  foolishly  he  lost  the  same. 
Decaying  more  and  more, 
Till  he  became 

Most  poor :  5 

With  thee 
O  let  me  rise. 
As  larks,  harmoniously. 
And  sing  this  day  thy  victories: 
Then  shall  the  fall  further  the  flight  in  me.  10 


GEORGE  HERBERT.  33 

My  tender  age  in  sorrow  did  begin; 

And  still  with  sicknesses  and  shame 
Thou  didst  so  punish  sin, 
That  I  became 

Most  thin.  iS 

With  thee 
Let  me  combine, 
And  feel  this  day  thy  victory; 
For  if  I  imp  my  wing  on  thine, 
Affliction  shall  advance  the  flight  in  me.  20 


EMPLOYMENT. 

If  as  a  flower  doth  spread  and  die, 
Thou  wouldst  extend  me  to  some  good, 
Before  I  were  by  frost's  extremity 
Nipt  in  the  bud; 

The  sweetness  and  the  praise  were  thine ;  5 

But  the  extension  and  the  room 
Which  in  thy  garland  I  should  fill,  were  mine 
At  thy  great  doom. 

For  as  thou  dost  impart  thy  grace 
The  greater  shall  our  glory  be.  i® 

The  measure  of  our  joys  is  in  this  place, 
The  stuff  with  thee. 

Let  me  not  languish  then,  and  spend 
A  life  as  barren  to  thy  praise 
As  is  the  dust,  to  which  that  life  doth  tend,  ^5 

But  with  delays. 


34  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

All  things  are  busy;  only  I 
Neither  bring  honey  with  the  bees, 
Nor  flowers  to  make  that,  nor  the  husbandry 

To  water  these.  2c 

I  am  no  link  of  thy  great  chain, 
But  all  my  company  is  a  weed. 
Lord,  place  me  in  thy  consort ;  give  one  strain 
To  my  poor  reed. 

VIRTUE. 

Sweet  day,  so  cool,  so  calm,  so  bright. 

The  bridal  of  the  earth  and  sky ; 
The  dew  shall  weep  thy  fall  to-night; 

For  thou  must  die. 

Sweet  rose,  whose  hue,  angry  and  brave,  s 

Bids  the  rash  gazer  wipe  his  eye; 
Thy  root  is  ever  in  its  grave. 

And  thou  must  die. 

Sweet  spring,  full  of  sweet  days  and  roses, 

A  box  where  sweets  compacted  lie;  lo 

My  music  shows  ye  have  your  closes, 
And  all  must  die. 

Only  a  sweet  and  virtuous  soul. 

Like  seasoned  timber,  never  gives  ; 
But,  though  the  whole  world  turn  to  coal,  15 

Then  chiefly  lives. 

THE   QUIP. 

The  merry  World  did  on  a  day 
With  his  train-bands  and  mates  agree 


GEORGE   HERBERT.  35 

To  meet  together  where  I  lay, 
And  all  in  sport  to  jeer  at  me. 

First,  Beauty  crept  into  a  rose,  5 

Which  when  I  pluckt  not,  '  Sir,'  said  she, 
'  Tell  me,  I  pray,  whose  hands  are  those  ? ' 
But  thou  shalt  answer.  Lord,  for  me. 

Then  Money  came,  and  chinking  still, 

'  What  tune  is  this,  poor  man  ? '  said  he;  lo 

'  I  heard  in  music  you  had  skill : ' 

But  thou  shalt  answer.  Lord,  for  me. 

Then  came  brave  Glory,  puiifing  by 

In  silks  that  whistled,  who  but  he  ? 

He  scarce  allowed  me  half  an  eye:  15 

But  thou  shalt  answer.  Lord,  for  me. 

Then  came  quick  Wit  and  Conversation, 

And  he  would  needs  a  comfort  be. 

And,  to  be  short,  make  an  oration: 

But  thou  shalt  answer,  Lord,  for  me.  20 

Yet  when  the  hour  of  thy  design 
To  answer  these  fine  things  shall  come, 
Speak  not  at  large,  say,  I  am  thine, 
And  then  they  have  their  answer  home. 


FRAILTY. 

Lord,  in  my  silence  how  do  I  despise 

What  upon  trust 
Is  styled  honor,  riches,  or  fair  eyes, 

But  is  fair  dust ! 


36  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

I  surname  them  gilded  clay,  5 

Dear  earth,  fine  grass  or  hay ; 
In  all,  I  think  my  foot  doth  ever  tread 
Upon  their  head. 

But  when  I  view  abroad  both  regiments, 

The  world's  and  thine,  lo 

Thine  clad  with  simpleness  and  sad  events, 
The  other  fine. 
Full  of  glory  and  gay  weeds. 
Brave  language,  braver  deeds. 
That  which  was  dust  before  doth  quickly  rise,  15 

And  prick  mine  eyes. 

O,  brook  not  this,  lest  if  what  even  now 

My  foot  did  tread 
Affront  those  joys  wherewith  thou  didst  endow 

And  long  since  wed  20 

My  poor  soul,  even  sick  of  love,  — 
It  may  a  Babel  prove, 
Commodious  to  conquer  heaven  and  thee, 
Planted  in  me. 


William    Habington,    Castara, 
Fart  /,  ed.  1635  '■>  written  about 
1633- 
TO    THE    WORLD. 

THE    PERFECTION    OF    LOVE. 

You  who  are  earth  and  cannot  rise 

Above  your  sense, 
Boasting  the  envied  wealth  which  lies 
Bright  in  your  mistress'  lips  or  eyes, 
Betray  a  pitied  eloquence. 


WILLIAM  HABINGTON.  37 

That  which  doth  join  our  souls,  so  Ught 

And  quick  doth  move, 
That  like  the  eagle  in  his  flight 
It  doth  transcend  all  human  sight, 

Lost  in  the  element  of  love.        .  lo 

You  poets  reach  not  this,  who  sing 

The  praise  of  dust 
But  kneaded,  when  by  theft  you  bring 
The  rose  and  lily  from  the  spring 

T'  adorn  the  wrinkled  face  of  Lust.  15 

When  we  speak  love,  nor  art  nor  wit 

We  gloss  upon; 
Our  souls  engender,  and  beget 
Ideas  which  you  counterfeit 

In  your  dull  propagation.  20 

While  Time  seven  ages  shall  disperse 

We  '11  talk  of  love. 
And  when  our  tongues  hold  no  commerce 
Our  thoughts  shall  mutually  converse, 

And  yet  the  blood  no  rebel  prove.  25 

And  though  we  be  of  several  kind, 

Fit  for  offence. 
Yet  are  we  so  by  love  refined 
From  impure  dross  we  are  all  mind: 

Death  could  not  more  have  conquered  sense.       3° 

How  suddenly  those  flames  expire 

Which  scorch  our  clay  ! 
Prometheus-like  when  we  steal  fire 
From  heaven,  't  is  endless  and  entire, 

It  may  know  age,  but  not  decay.  35 


38  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

John    Milton,   Arcades,   or  the 
Arcadians,  1645;  written  1634. 

SONG    II. 

O'er  the  smooth  enamelled  green, 
Where  no  print  of  step  hath  been, 

Follow  me,  as  I  sing 

And  touch  the  warbled  string, 
Under  the  shady  roof 
Of  branching  elm,  star-proof, 

Follow  me : 
I  will  bring  you  where  she  sits 
Clad  in  splendor  as  befits 

Her  deity. 
Such  a  rural  queen 
All  Arcadia  hath  not  seen. 


SONG    III. 

Nymphs  and  shepherds,  dance  no  more 

By  sandy  Ladon's  lilied  banks; 
On  old  Lycaeus,  or  Cyllene  hoar. 

Trip  no  more  in  twilight  ranks; 
Though  Erymanth  your  loss  deplore,  5 

A  better  soil  shall  give  ye  thanks. 
From  the  stony  Maenalus 
Bring  your  flocks,  and  live  with  us; 
Here  ye  shall  have  greater  grace. 
To  serve  the  Lady  of  this  place.  10 

Though  Syrinx  your  Pan's  mistress  were, 
Yet  Syrinx  well  might  wait  on  her. 

Such  a  rural  queen 

All  Arcadia  hath  not  seen. 


JOHN  MILTON.  39 

A    Masque   Presented  at  Ludlow 
Castle,  1634. 

SONG. 

Sweet  Echo,  sweetest  nymph,  that  liv'st  unseen 
Within  thy  airy  shell. 
By  slow  Meander's  margent  green, 
And  in  the  violet-embroidered  vale 

Where  the  love-lorn  nightingale  5 

Nightly  to  thee  her  sad  song  mourneth  well: 
Canst  thou  not  tell  me  of  a  gentle  pair 
That  likest  thy  Narcissus  are  ? 

O,  if  thou  have 
Hid  them  in  some  flowery  cave,  10 

Tell  me  but  where. 
Sweet  queen  of  parley,  daughter  of  the  sphere ! 
So  mayst  thou  be  translated  to  the  skies, 
And  give  resounding  grace  to  all  heaven's  harmonies. 

SONG. 

Spirit.     Sabrina  fair. 

Listen  where  thou  art  sitting 
Under  the  glassy,  cool,  translucent  wave, 

In  twisted  braids  of  lilies  knitting 
The  loose  train  of  thy  amber-dropping  hair;         5 
Listen,  for  dear  honor's  sake. 
Goddess  of  the  silver  lake. 
Listen,  and  save. 

Listen,  and  appear  to  us. 

In  name  of  great  Oceanus;  10 

By  the  earth-shaking  Neptune's  mace. 

And  Tethys'  grave  majestic  pace; 

By  hoary  Nereus'  wrinkled  look, 


40  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

And  the  Carpathian  wizard's  hook  ; 
By  scaly  Triton's  winding  shell,  15 

And  old  soothsaying  Glaucus'  spell ; 
By  Leucothea's  lovely  hands, 
And  her  son  that  rules  the  strands ; 
By  Thetis'  tinsel-slippered  feet, 
And  the  songs  of  Sirens  sweet ;  20 

By  dead  Parthenope's  dear  tomb, 
And  fair  Ligea's  golden  comb, 
Wherewith  she  sits  on  diamond  rocks, 
Sleeking  her  soft  alluring  locks  ; 
By  all  the  nymphs  that  nightly  dance  25 

Upon  thy  streams  with  wily  glance  : 
Rise,  rise,  and  heave  thy  rosy  head 
From  thy  coral-paven  bed, 
And  bridle  in  thy  headlong  wave. 
Till  thou  our  summons  answered  have.  30 

Listen  and  save. 

Sabrina  rises,  attended  by  Water-Nymphs,  and  sings. 

By  the  rushy-fringed  bank. 

Where  grows  the  willow  and  the  osier  dank. 

My  sliding  chariot  stays. 
Thick  set  with  agate,  and  the  azurn  sheen         35 
Of  turkis  blue,  and  emerald  green, 
That  in  the  channel  strays ; 
Whilst  from  off  the  waters  fleet 
Thus  I  set  my  printless  feet 
O'er  the  cowslip's  velvet  head,  40 

That  bends  not  as  I  tread. 
Gentle  swain,  at  thy  request 
I  am  here ! 
Spirit.         Goddess  dear, 

We  implore  thy  powerful  hand  45 

To  undo  the  charmed  band 


JOHN  MIL  TON.  41 

Of  true  virgin  here  distressed 
Through  the  force,  and  through  the  wile 
Of  unblest  enchanter  vile. 
Sabrina.  Shepherd,  't  is  my  office  best  50 

To  help  ensnared  chastity. 
Brightest  Lady,  look  on  me: 
Thus  I  sprinkle  on  thy  breast 
Drops  that  from  my  fountain  pure 
I  have  kept  of  precious  cure;  55 

Thrice  upon  thy  finger's  tip. 
Thrice  upon  thy  rubied  lip: 
Next  this  marbled  venomed  seat, 
Smeared  with  gums  of  glutinous  heat, 
I  touch  with  chaste  palms  moist  and  cold.         60 
Now  the  spell  hath  lost  his  hold  ; 
And  I  must  haste  ere  morning  hour 
To  wait  in  Amphitrite's  bower. 
Sabrina  descends,  and  the  Lady  rises  out  of  her  seat. 
Spirit.         Virgin,  daughter  of  Locrine, 

Sprung  of  old  Anchises'  line,  65 

May  thy  brimmed  waves  for  this 

Their  full  tribute  never  miss 

From  a  thousand  petty  rills 

That  tumble  down  the  snowy  hills: 

Summer  drouth  or  singed  air  7° 

Never  scorch  thy  tresses  fair, 

Nor  wet  October's  torrent  flood 

Thy  molten  crystal  fill  with  mud; 

May  thy  billows  roll  ashore 

The  beryl  and  the  golden  ore;  75 

May  thy  lofty  head  be  crowned 

With  many  a  tower  and  terrace  round, 

And  here  and  there  thy  banks  upon 

With  groves  of  myrrh  and  cinnamon. 


42  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

THE   SPIRITS  EPILOGUE. 

To  the  ocean  now  I  fly, 
And  those  happy  dimes  that  He 
Where  day  never  shuts  his  eye, 
Up  in  the  broad  fields  of  the  sky. 
There  I  suck  the  liquid  air,  5 

All  amidst  the  gardens  fair 
Of  Hesperus,  and  his  daughters  three 
That  sing  about  the  golden  tree. 
Along  the  crisped  shades  and  bowers 
Revels  the  spruce  and  jocund  Spring ;  lo 

The  Graces  and  the  rosy-bosomed  Hours 
Thither  all  their  bounties  bring. 
There  eternal  summer  dwells. 
And  west-winds  with  musky  wing 
About  the  cedarn  alleys  fling  15 

Nard  and  cassia's  balmy  smells. 
Iris  there  with  humid  bow 
Waters  the  odorous  banks,  that  blow 
Flowers  of  more  mingled  hue 
Than  her  purfled  scarf  can  shew,  20 

And  drenches  with  Elysian  dew 
(List,  mortals,  if  your  ears  be  true) 
Beds  of  hyacinth  and  roses, 
Where  young  Adonis  oft  reposes. 
Waxing  well  of  his  deep  wound,  25 

In  slumber  soft,  and  on  the  ground 
Sadly  sits  th'  Assyrian  queen. 
But  far  above  in  spangled  sheen. 
Celestial  Cupid,  her  famed  son,  advanced. 
Holds  his  dear  Psyche,  sweet  entranced  3° 

After  her  wandering  labors  long, 
Till  free  consent  the  gods  among 


THOMAS  CAREW.  43 

Make  her  his  eternal  bride, 

And  from  her  fair  unspotted  side 

Two  blissful  twins  are  to  be  born,  35 

Youth  and  Joy :  so  Jove  hath  sworn. 

But  now  my  task  is  smoothly  done: 
I  can  fly,  or  I  can  run 
Quickly  to  the  green  earth's  end, 
Where  the  bowed  welkin  slow  doth  bend,  4° 

And  from  thence  can  soar  as  soon 
To  the  corners  of  the  moon. 

Mortals,  that  would  follow  me. 
Love  Virtue  :  she  alone  is  free; 
She  can  teach  ye  how  to  climb  45 

Higher  than  the  sphery  chime; 
Or,  if  Virtue  feeble  were. 
Heaven  itself  would  stoop  to  her. 


Thomas    Carew,    Poems,    1640; 
written    1634. 

THE    MARIGOLD. 

Mark  how  the  bashful  morn,  in  vain, 

Courts  the  amorous  marigold. 
With  sighing  blasts,  and  weeping  rain; 

Yet  she  refuses  to  unfold. 
But  when  the  planet  of  the  day 
Approacheth  with  his  powerful  ray. 
Then  she  spreads,  then  she  receives 
His  warmer  beams  into  her  virgin  leaves. 

So  shalt  thou  thrive  in  love,  fond  boy ; 
If  thy  tears  and  sighs  discover 


44  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Thy  grief,  thou  never  shalt  enjoy 

The  just  reward  of  a  bold  lover. 
But  when,  with  moving  accents,  thou 
Shalt  constant  faith  and  service  vow, 
Thy  Celia  shall  receive  those  charms  15 

With  open  ears  and  with  unfolded  arms. 


Thomas  Randolph,  Poems,  with 
the  Muses'  Looking  Glass,  1 638 ; 
written  before  1634-35. 

AN   ODE 

TO    MASTER    ANTHONY    STAFFORD     TO    HASTEN     HIM    INTO 
THE    COUNTRY. 

Come,  spur  away, 
I  have  no  patience  for  a  longer  stay, 

But  must  go  down. 
And  leave  the  charge'ble  noise  of  this  great  town. 

I  will  the  country  see,  5 

Where  old  simplicity. 
Though  hid  in  gray, 
Doth  look  more  gay 
Than  foppery  in  plush  and  scarlet  clad. 

Farewell,  you  city  wits,  that  are  10 

Almost  at  civil  war  ; 
'Tis  time  that  I  grow  wise,  when  all  the  world  grows  mad. 

More  of  my  days 
I  will  not  spend  to  gain  an  idiot's  praise ; 

Or  to  make  sport  ^5 

For  some  slight  puisne  of  the  Inns-of-Court. 


THOMAS  RANDOLPH.  45 

Then,  worthy  Stafiford,  say, 
How  shall  we  spend  the  day  ? 
With  what  delights 

Shorten  the  nights  ?  20 

When  from  this  tumult  we  are  got  secure, 

Where  mirth  with  all  her  freedom  goes. 
Yet  shall  no  finger  lose  ; 
Where  every  word  is  thought,  and  every  thought  is  pure. 

There  from  the  tree  25 

We  '11  cherries  pluck,  and  pick  the  strawberry. 

And  every  day 
Go  see  the  wholesome  country  girls  make  hay, 
Whose  brown  hath  lovelier  grace 
Than  any  painted  face,  30 

That  I  do  know 
Hyde  Park  can  show. 
Where  I  had  rather  gain  a  kiss  than  meet 

(Though  some  of  them  in  greater  state 
Might  court  my  love  with  plate)  35 

The  beauties  of  the  Cheap,  and  wives  of  Lombard  Street. 

But  think  upon 
Some  other  pleasures :  these  to  me  are  none. 

Why  do  I  prate 
Of  women,  that  are  things  against  my  fate?  40 

I  never  mean  to  wed 
That  torture  to  my  bed; 
My  Muse  is  she 
My  love  shall  be. 
Let  clowns  get  wealth  and  heirs;  when  I  am  gone,         45 
And  the  great  bugbear,  grisly  Death, 
Shall  take  this  idle  breath, 
If  I  a  poem  leave,  that  poem  is  my  son. 


46  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Of  this  no  more  ; 
We'll  rather  taste  the  bright  Pomona's  store.  5° 

No  fruit  shall  'scape 
Our  palates,  from  the  damson  to  the  grape. 
Then,  full,  we  '11  seek  a  shade, 
And  hear  what  music  's  made; 
How  Philomel  55 

Her  tale  doth  tell. 
And  how  the  other  birds  do  fill  the  choir : 

The  thrush  and  blackbird  lend  their  throats. 
Warbling  melodious  notes; 
We  will  all  sports  enjoy  which  others  but  desire.  6o 

Ours  is  the  sky. 
Where  at  what  fowl  we  please  our  hawk  shall  fly; 

Nor  will  we  spare 
To  hunt  the  crafty  fox  or  timorous  hare ; 

But  let  our  hounds  run  loose  6$ 

In  any  ground  they  'U  choose, 
The  buck  shall  fall, 
The  stag,  and  all: 
Our  pleasures  must  from  their  own  warrants  be, 

For  to  my  Muse,  if  not  to  me,  7° 

I  'm  sure  all  game  is  free: 
Heaven,  earth,  are  all  but  parts  of  her  great  royalty. 

And  when  we  mean 
To  taste  of  Bacchus'  blessings  now  and  then, 

And  drink  by  stealth  75 

A  cup  or  two  to  noble  Barkley's  health, 

I  '11  take  my  .pipe  and  try 

The  Phrygian  melody; 

Which  he  that  hears. 

Lets  through  his  ears  ^° 


THOMAS  RANDOLPH.  47 

A  madness  to  distemper  all  the  brain. 
Then  I  another  pipe  will  take 
And  Doric  music  make, 
To  civilise  with  graver  notes  our  wits  again. 

TO    ONE    ADMIRING    HERSELF    IN    A 
LOOKING-GLASS. 

Fair  lady,  when  you  see  the  grace 

Of  beauty  in  your  looking-glass: 

A  stately  forehead,  smooth  and  high, 

And  full  of  princely  majesty: 

A  sparkling  eye,  no  gem  so  fair,  5 

Whose  lustre  dims  the  Cyprian  star: 

A  glorious  cheek  divinely  sweet, 

Wherein  both  roses  kindly  meet: 

A  cherry  lip  that  would  entice 

Even  gods  to  kiss  at  any  price:  lo 

You  think  no  beauty  is  so  rare 

That  with  your  shadow  might  compare ; 

That  your  reflection  is  alone 

The  thing  that  men  most  dote  upon. 

Madam,  alas!  your  glass  doth  lie,  15 

And  you  are  much  deceived;  for  I 

A  beauty  know  of  richer  grace 

(Sweet,  be  not  angry)  —  't  is  your  face. 

Hence  then,  O,  learn  more  mild  to  be, 

And  leave  to  lay  your  blame  on  me;  20 

If  me  your  real  substance  move, 

When  you  so  much  your  shadow  love, 

Wise  Nature  would  not  let  your  eye 

Look  on  her  own  bright  majesty. 

Which  had  you  once  but  gazed  upon,  25 

You  could,  except  yourself,  love  none: 


48  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

What  then  you  cannot  love,  let  me: 

That  face  I  can,  you  cannot,  see. 

Now  you  have  what  to  love,  you  '11  say, 

What  then  is  left  for  me,  I  pray  ?  30 

My  face,  sweetheart,  if  it  please  thee: 

That  which  you  can,  I  cannot,  see. 

So  either  love  shall  gain  his  due. 

Yours,  sweet,  in  me,  and  mine  in  you. 


Richard  Brathwaite,  The  Ar- 
cadia ti  Princess,  1635. 

THEMISTA'S   REPROOF. 

Like  a  top  which  runneth  round 

And  never  winneth  any  ground  ; 

Or  th'  dying  scion  of  a  vine 

That  rather  breaks  than  it  will  twine ; 

Or  th'  sightless  mole  whose  life  is  spent  S 

Divided  from  her  element; 

Or  plants  removed  from  Tagus'  shore 

Who  never  bloom  nor  blossom  more; 

Or  dark  Cimmerians  who  delight 

In  shady  shroud  of  pitchy  night;  10 

Or  mopping  apes  who  are  possessed 

Their  cubs  are  ever  prettiest: 

So  he  who  makes  his  own  opinion 

To  be  his  one  and  only  minion. 

Nor  will  incline  in  any  season  15 

To  th'  weight  of  proof  or  strength  of  reason, 

But  prefers  will  precipitate 

'Fore  judgment  that  's  deliberate  ; 


EDMUND   WALLER.  49 

He  ne'er  shall  lodge  within  my  roof 

Till,  rectified  by  due  reproof,  20 

He  labor  to  reform  this  ill 

By  giving  way  to  others'  will. 


Edmund  Waller,  Poems,  1645  > 
written  about  1635. 

TO    MY   YOUNG    LADY    LUCY    SIDNEY. 

Why  came  I  so  untimely  forth 
Into  a  world  which,  wanting  thee, 

Could  entertain  us  with  no  worth, 
Or  shadow  of  felicity. 

That  time  should  me  so  far  remove 

From  that  which  I  was  born  to  love  ? 


Yet,  fairest  blossom,  do  not  slight 

That  age  which  you  may  know  too  soon; 

The  rosy  morn  resigns  her  light 

And  milder  glory  to  the  noon;  10 

And  then  what  wonders  shall  you  do, 

Whose  dawning  beauty  warms  us  so! 

Hope  waits  upon  the  flowery  prime ; 

And  summer,  though  it  be  less  gay 
Yet  is  not  looked  on  as  a  time  *S 

Of  declination  and  decay; 
For  with  a  full  hand  that  does  bring 
All  that  was  promised  by  the  spring. 


50  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

ON    THE    FRIENDSHIP   BETWIXT    SACCHARISSA 
AND    AMORET. 

Tell  me,  lovely,  loving  pair, 

Why  so  kind  and  so  severe  ? 
Why  so  careless  of  our  care, 

Only  to  yourselves  so  dear  ? 

By  this  cunning  change  of  hearts,  5 

You  the  power  of  Love  control ; 

While  the  boy's  deluded  darts 
Can  arrive  at  neither  soul. 

For  in  vain  to  either  breast 

Still  beguiled  Love  does  come,  lo 

Where  he  finds  a  foreign  guest : 

Neither  of  your  hearts  at  home. 

Debtors  thus  with  like  design. 

When  they  never  mean  to  pay, 
That  they  may  the  law  decline,  15 

To  some  friend  make  all  away. 

Not  the  silver  doves  that  fly. 

Yoked  to  Cytherea's  car, 
Not  the  wings  that  lift  so  high 

And  convey  her  son  so  far,  20 

Are  so  lovely,  sweet,  and  fair, 

Or  do  more  ennoble  love. 
Are  so  choicely  matched  a  pair, 

Or  with  more  consent  do  move. 


EDMUND   WALLER.  51 

TO    AMORET. 

Fair  !  that  you  may  truly  know, 
What  you  unto  Thyrsis  owe; 
I  will  tell  you  how  I  do 
Sacharissa  love,  and  you. 

Joy  salutes  me  when  I  set  5 

My  blest  eyes  on  Amoret: 
But  with  wonder  I  am  strook, 
While  I  on  the  other  look. 

If  sweet  Amoret  complains, 
I  have  sense  of  all  her  pains :  lo 

But  for  Sacharissa  I 
Do  not  only  grieve,  but  die. 

All  that  of  myself  is  mine 
Lovely  Amoret !  is  thine. 

Sacharissa's  captive  fain  iS 

Would  untie  his  iron  chain; 
And,  those  scorching  beams  to  shun. 
To  thy  gentle  shadow  run. 

If  the  soul  had  free  election 
To  dispose  of  her  affection ;  20 

I  would  not  thus  long  have  borne 
Haughty  Sacharissa's  scorn; 
But  't  is  sure  some  power  above 
Which  controls  our  will  in  love! 

If  not  a  love,  a  strong  desire  25 

To  create  and  spread  that  fire 
In  my  breast,  solicits  me. 
Beauteous  Amoret  !  for  thee. 

'T  is  amazement,  more  than  love. 
Which  her  radiant  eyes  do  move  :  3° 

If  less  splendor  wait  on  thine. 
Yet  they  so  benignly  shine, 


52  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

I  would  turn  my  dazzled  sight 

To  behold  their  milder  light. 

But  as  hard  't  is  to  destroy  35 

That  high  flame,  as  to  enjoy  : 

Which  how  eas'ly  I  may  do, 

Heaven  (as  eas'ly  scaled)  does  know ! 

Amoret  as  sweet  and  good 
As  the  most  deHcious  food,  4° 

Which,  but  tasted,  does  impart 
Life  and  gladness  to  the  heart; 

Sacharissa's  beauty  's  wine, 
Which  to  madness  doth  incline  : 
Such  a  liquor,  as  no  brain  45 

That  is  mortal  can  sustain. 

Scarce  can  I  to  heaven  excuse 
The  devotion  which  I  use 
Unto  that  adored  dame  : 

For  't  is  not  unlike  the  same  5° 

Which  I  thither  ought  to  send. 
So  that  if  it  could  take  end, 
'T  would  to  heaven  itself  be  due. 
To  succeed  her,  and  not  you. 

Who  already  have  of  me  55 

All  that 's  not  idolatry  ; 
Which,  though  not  so  fierce  a  flame, 
Is  longer  like  to  be  the  same. 

Then  smile  on  me,  and  I  will  prove 
Wonder  is  shorter-lived  than  love.  6o 


FRANCIS   QUARLES.  53 

Francis  Quarles,  Emblems,  Di- 
vine and  Moral,  1635. 

O    WHITHER    SHALL    I    FLY? 

O  WHITHER  shall  I  fly?  what  path  untrod 
Shall  I  seek  out  to  scape  the  flaming  rod 
Of  my  offended,  of  my  angry  God  ? 

Where  shall  I  sojourn  ?  what  kind  sea  will  hide 

My  head  from  thunder  ?  where  shall  I  abide,  5 

Until  his  flames  be  quenched  or  laid  aside  ? 

What  if  my  feet  should  take  their  hasty  flight, 
And  seek  protection  in  the  shades  of  night  ? 
Alas,  no  shades  can  blind  the  God  of  Light. 

What  if  my  soul  should  take  the  wings  of  day,  10 

And  find  some  desert.     If  she  spring  away. 
The  wings  of  vengeance  clip  as  fast  as  they. 

What  if  some  solid  rock  should  entertain 

My  frighted  soul  ?     Can  solid  rocks  restrain 

The  stroke  of  Justice,  and  not  cleave  in  twain  ?  15 

Nor  sea,  nor  shade,  nor  shield,  nor  rock,  nor  cave. 

Nor  silent  deserts,  nor  the  sullen  grave. 

Where  flame-eyed  Fury  means  to  smite,  can  save. 

The  seas  will  part,  graves  open,  rocks  will  split. 

The  shield  will  cleave,  the  frighted  shadows  flit ;  20 

Where  Justice  aims,  her  fiery  darts  must  hit. 

No,  no,  if  stern-browed  Vengeance  means  to  thunder, 
There  is  no  place  above,  beneath,  nor  under. 
So  close  but  will  unlock  or  rive  in  sunder. 


54  SEVENTEENTH   CENTURY  LYRICS. 

'Tis  vain  to  flee  ;   'tis  neither  here  nor  there  25 

Can  scape  that  hand  until  that  hand  forbear. 
Ah  me  !  where  is  he  not  that 's  everywhere  ? 

'T  is  vain  to  flee  ;  till  gentle  Mercy  show 

Her  better  eye,  the  further  off  we  go, 

The  swing  of  Justice  deals  the  mightier  blow.  30 

Th'  ingenuous  child,  corrected,  doth  not  fly 
His  angry  mother's  hand,  but  clings  more  nigh. 
And  quenches  with  his  tears  her  flaming  eye. 

Shadows  are  faithless,  and  the  rocks  are  false  ; 

No  trust  in  brass,  no  trust  in  marble  walls  ;  35 

Poor  cots  are  even  as  safe  as  princes'  halls. 

Great  God,  there  is  no  safety  here  below ; 

Thou  art  my  fortress,  though  thou  seemst  my  foe ; 

'T  is  thou  that  strik'st  must  guard  the  blow. 

Thou  art  my  God ;  by  thee  I  fall  or  stand,  40 

Thy  grace  hath  given  me  courage  to  withstand 
All  tortures,  but  my  conscience  and  thy  hand. 

I  know  thy  justice  is  thyself;  I  know, 

Just  God,  thy  very  self  is  mercy  too  ; 

If  not  to  thee,  where  ?  whither  should  I  go  ?  45 

Then  work  thy  will ;  if  passion  bid  me  flee, 
My  reason  shall  obey ;  my  wings  shall  be 
Stretched  out  no  further  than  from  thee  to  thee. 


FRANCIS   QUARLES.  55 

MY    BELOVED    IS    MINE    AND    I    AM    HIS. 

Ev'n  like  tM'o  little  bank-dividing  brooks, 

That  wash  the  pebbles  with  their  wanton  streams, 

And  having  ranged  and  searched  a  thousand  nooks. 
Meet  both  at  length  in  silver-breasted  Thames, 

Where  in  a  greater  current  they  conjoin :  5 

So  I  my  best  beloved's  am,  so  he  is  mine. 

Ev'n  so  we  met,  and,  after  long  pursuit, 
Ev'n  so  we  joined,  we  both  became  entire; 

No  need  for  either  to  renew  a  suit, 

For  I  was  flax  and  he  was  flames  of  fire ;  lo 

Our  firm  united  souls  did  more  than  twine. 

So  I  my  best  beloved's  am,  so  he  is  mine. 

If  all  those  glitt'ring  monarchs  that  command 

The  servile  quarters  of  this  earthly  ball, 
Should  tender  in  exchange  their  shares  of  land,  15 

I  would  not  change  my  fortunes  for  them  all : 
Their  wealth  is  but  a  counter  to  my  coin, 
The  world's  but  theirs-,   but  my  beloved  's  mine. 

Nay  more,  if  the  fair  Thespian  ladies  all 

Should  heap  together  their  diviner  treasure,  20 

That  treasure  should  be  deemed  a  price  too  small 

To  buy  a  minute's  lease  of  half  my  pleasure  : 
'T  is  not  the  sacred  wealth  of  all  the  mine 
Can  buy  my  heart  from  his  or  his  from  being  mine. 

Nor  time,  nor  place,  nor  chance,  nor  death  can  bow        25 

My  least  desires  unto  the  least  remove  ; 
He's  firmly  mine  by  oath,  I  his  by  vow; 

He  's  mine  by  faith,  and  I  am  his  by  love  ; 
He  's  mine  by  water,  I  am  his  by  wine  : 
Thus  I  my  best  beloved's  am,  thus  he  is  mine.  3° 


56  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

He  is  mine  altar,  I  his  holy  place ; 

I  am  his  guest,  and  he  my  living  food ; 
I  'm  his  by  penitence,  he  mine  by  grace  ; 

I  'm  his  by  purchase,  he  is  mine  by  blood  ; 
He's  my  supporting  elm  and  I  his  vine  :  35 

Thus  I  my  best  beloved's  am  •,  thus  he  is  mine. 

He  gives  me  wealth,  I  give  hrm  all  my  vows ; 

I  give  him  songs,  he  gives  me  length  of  days  ; 
With  wreaths  of  grace  he  crowns  my  conquering  brows, 

And  I  his  temples  with  a  crown  of  praise  ;  4° 

Which  he  accepts  as  an  everlasting  sign 
That  I  my  best  beloved's  am,  that  he  is  mine. 


George  Sandys,  Pa?-apkrase  upon 
the  Psalms  of  David,  1636. 

DEO    OPTIMO    MAXIMO. 

O  THOU  who  all  things  hast  of  nothing  made, 

Whose  hand  the  radiant  firmament  displayed, 

With  such  an  undiscerned  swiftness  hurled 

About  the  steadfast  centre  of  the  world  ; 

Against  whose  rapid  course  the  restless  sun  5 

And  wandering  flames  in  varied  motions  run, 

Which  heat,  life,  light  infuse  ;  time,  night,  and  day 

Distinguish  ;   in  our  human  bodies  sway  : 

That  hung'st  the  solid  earth  in  fleeting  air. 

Veined  with  clear  springs,  which  ambient  seas  repair.     10 

In  clouds  the  mountains  wrap  their  hoary  heads  ; 

Luxurious  valleys  clothed  with  flowery  meads  ; 

Her  trees  yield  fruit  and  shade;   with  liberal  breasts 

All  creatures  she,  their  common  mother,  feasts. 


GEORGE   SANDYS.  57 

Then  man  thy  image  mad'st ;  in  dignity,  15 

In  knowledge,  and  in  beauty  like  to  thee  ; 

Placed  in  a  heaven  on  earth  ;   without  his  toil 

The  ever-flourishing  and  fruitful  soil 

Unpurchased  food  produced  ;  all  creatures  were 

His  subjects,  serving  more  for  love  than  fear.  20 

He  knew  no  lord  but  thee  ;  but  when  he  fell 

From  his  obedience,  all  at  once  rebel. 

And  in  his  ruin  exercise  their  might ; 

Concurring  elements  against  him  fight ; 

Troops  of  unknown  diseases,  sorrow,  age,  25 

And  death  assail  him  with  successive  rage. 

Hell  let  forth  all  her  furies  ;  none  so  great 

As  man  to  man  :  —  ambition,  pride,  deceit. 

Wrong  armed  with  power,  lust,  rapine,  slaughter  reigned, 

And  flattered  vice  the  name  of  virtue  gained.  3° 

Then  hills  beneath  the  swelling  waters  stood 

And  all  the  globe  of  earth  was  but  one  flood, 

Yet  could  not  cleanse  their  guilt.     The  following  race 

Worse  than  their  fathers,  and  their  sons  more  base, 

Their  god-like  beauty  lost ;  sin's  wretched  thrall  35 

No  spark  of  their  divine  original 

Left  unextinguished  ;  all  enveloped 

With  darkness,  in  their  bold  transgressions  dead : 

When  thou  didst  from  the  east  a  light  display, 

Which  rendered  to  the  world  a  clearer  day ;  40 

Whose  precepts  from  hell's  jaws  our  steps  withdraw, 

And  whose  example  was  a  living  law  ; 

Who  purged  us  with  his  blood,  the  way  prepared 

To  heaven,  and  these  long  chained-up  doors  unbarred. 

How  infinite  thy  mercy  !   which  exceeds  45 

The  world  thou  mad'st,  as  well  as  our  misdeeds  ; 

Which  greater  reverence  than  thy  justice  wins. 

And  still  augments  thy  honor  by  our  sins. 


58  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

O  who  hath  tasted  of  thy  clemency 

In  greater  measure  or  more  oft  than  I !  50 

My  grateful  verse  thy  goodness  shall  display, 

0  thou  who  went'st  along  in  all  my  way, 
To  where  the  morning  with  perfumed  wings 
From  the  high  mountains  of  Panchsea  springs. 

To  that  new  found-out  world,  where  sober  Night  55 

Takes  from  the  antipodes  her  silent  flight ; 

To  those  dark  seas  where  horrid  Winter  reigns. 

And  binds  the  stubborn  floods  in  icy  chains  ; 

To  Libyan  wastes,  whose  thirst  no  showers  assuage. 

And  where  the  swollen  Nilus  cools  the  lion's  rage.  60 

Thy  wonders  in  the  deep  I  have  beheld  ; 

Yet  all  by  those  on  Judah's  hill  excelled. 

There,  where  the  Virgin's  son  his  doctrine  taught. 

His  miracles  and  our  redemption  wrought ; 

Where  I,  by  thee  inspired,  his  praises  sung,  65 

And  on  his  sepulchre  my  offering  hung. 

Which  way  soe'er  I  turn  my  face  or  feet, 

1  see  thy  glory,  and  thy  mercy  meet ; 

Met  on  the  Thracian  shores,  where  in  the  strife 

Of  frantic  Simoans  thou  preservedst  my  life ;  70 

So,  when  Arabian  thieves  belaid  us  round. 

And  when,  by  all  abandoned,  thee  I  found. 

That  false  Sidonian  wolf,  whose  craft  put  on 

A  sheep's  soft  fleece,  and  me,  Bellerophon, 

To  ruin  by  his  cruel  letter  sent,  75 

Thou  didst  by  thy  protecting  hand  prevent. 

Thou  savedst  me  from  the  bloody  massacres 

Of  faithless  Indians  ;  from  their  treacherous  wars  ; 

From  raging  fevers,  from  the  sultry  breath 

Of  tainted  air,  which  cloyed  the  jaws  of  death  ;  80 

Preserved  from  swallowing  seas,  when  towering  waves 

Mixed  with  the  clouds  and  opened  their  deep  graves ; 


ABRAHAM  COWLEY.  59 

From  barbarous  pirates  ransomed,  by  those  taught, 

Successfully  with  Salian  Moors  we  fought ; 

Then  brought'st  me  home  in  safety,  that  this  earth         85 

Might  bury  me,  which  fed  me  from  my  birth ; 

Blest  with  a  healthful  age,  a  quiet  mind. 

Content  with  little,  to  this  work  designed, 

Which  I  at  length  have  finished  by  thy  aid, 

And  now  my  vows  have  at  thy  altar  paid.  9° 


Abraham  Cowley,  Sylva,  1636. 

A   VOTE. 

This  only  grant  me,  that  my  means  may  lie 
Too  low  for  envy,  for  contempt  too  high. 

Some  honor  I  would  have, 
Not  from  great  deeds,  but  good  alone : 
Th'  unknown  are  better  than  ill-known  ;  5 

Rumor  can  ope  the  grave. 
Acquaintance  I  would  have,  but  when 't  depends 
Not  on  the  number,  but  the  choice  of  friends. 

Books  should,  not  business,  entertain  the  light ; 

And  sleep,  as  undisturbed  as  death,  the  night.  10 

My  house  a  cottage,  more 
Than  palace,  and  should  fitting  be 
For  all  my  use,  no  luxury. 

My  garden  painted  o'er 
With  Nature's  hand,  not  Art's  ;  and  pleasures  yield        15 
Horace  might  envy  in  his  Sabine  field. 

Thus  would  I  double  my  life's  fading  space. 
For  he  that  runs  it  well,  twice  runs  his  race. 


60  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

And  in  this  true  delight, 
These  unbought  sports,  this  happy  state,  20 

I  would  not  fear  nor  wish  my  fate, 

But  boldly  say  each  night : 
To-morrow  let  my  sun  his  beams  display, 
Or  in  clouds  hide  them  :  I  have  lived  to-day. 

ODE  VI. 

UPON    THE    SHORTNESS    OF    MAN's    LIFE, 

Mark  that  swift  arrow  how  it  cuts  the  air. 

How  it  outruns  thy  hunting  eye. 

Use  all  persuasions  now  and  try 
If  thou  canst  call  it  back  or  stay  it  there. 

That  way  it  went,  but  thou  shalt  find  S 

No  track  of  't  left  behind. 

Fool,  'tis  thy  life,  and  the  fond  archer,  thou  ! 

Of  all  the  time  thou  'st  shot  away, 

I  '11  bid  thee  fetch  but  yesterday. 
And  it  shall  be  too  hard  a  task  to  do.  10 

Besides  repentance,  what  canst  find 

That  it  hath  left  behind  1 

Our  life  is  carried  with  too  strong  a  tide, 
A  doubtful  cloud  our  substance  bears 
And  is  the  horse  of  all  our  years ;  15 

Each  day  doth  on  a  winged  whirlwind  ride. 
We  and  our  glass  run  out,  and  must 
Both  render  up  our  dust. 

But  his  past  life  who  without  grief  can  see. 

Who  never  thinks  his  end  too  near  20 

But  says  to  fame  '  Thou  art  mine  heir,' 


SIA'  JOHN-  SUCKLING.  61 

That  man  extends  life's  natural  brevity : 
This  is,  this  is  the  only  way 
To  outlive  Nestor  in  a  day. 


Sir    John    Suckling,   Aglaura, 
163S ;  acted  1637. 

WHY    SO    PALE    AND    WAN,    FOND    LOVER? 

Why  so  pale  and  wan,  fond  lover  ? 

Prithee  why  so  pale? 
Will,  when  looking  well  can't  move  her, 

Looking  ill  prevail  ? 

Prithee  why  so  pale  ?  S 

Why  so  dull  and  mute,  young  sinner  ? 

Prithee  why  so  mute  ? 
Will,  when  speaking  well  can't  win  her. 

Saying  nothing  do  't  ? 

Prithee  why  so  mute  ?  10 

Quit,  quit,  for  shame  !  this  will  not  move, 

This  cannot  take  her  ; 
If  of  herself  she  will  not  love. 

Nothing  can  make  her  : 

The  devil  take  her  !  15 


TRUE    LOVE. 

No,  no,  fair  heretic,  it  needs  must  be 
But  an  ill  love  in  me, 
And  worse  for  thee  ; 
For  were  it  in  my  power 
To  love  thee  now  this  hour 


62  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

More  than  I  did  the  last ; 

'T  would  then  so  fall, 

I  might  not  love  at  all ; 
Love  that  can  flow,  and  can  admit  increase. 
Admits  as  well  an  ebb,  and  may  grow  less.  lo 

True  love  is  still  the  same  ;  the  torrid  zones 

And  those  more  frigid  ones. 
It  must  not  know  : 

For  love  grown  cold  or  hot 

Is  lust  or  friendship,  not  15 

The  thing  we  have. 

For  that 's  a  flame  would  die, 

Held  down  or  up  too  high  : 
Then  think  I  love  more  than  I  can  express. 
And  would  love  more,  could  I  but  love  thee  less.    20 


Robert     Herrick,    Hesperides, 
1648 ;  written  after  1637. 

AN  ODE  FOR  BEN  JONSON. 

Ah,  Ben  ! 
Say  how,  or  when 

Shall  we  thy  guests 
Meet  at  those  lyric  feasts, 

Made  at  the  Sun, 
The  Dog,  the  Triple  Tun  ? 
Where  we  such  clusters  had. 
As  made  us  nobly  wild,  not  mad  ; 
And  yet  each  verse  of  thine 
Out-did  the  meat,  out-did  the  frolic  wine. 


THOMAS   CAREW.  63 

My  Ben ! 
Or  come  again : 
Or  send  to  us, 
Thy  wit's  great  over-plus; 

But  teach  us  yet  15 

Wisely  to  husband  it ; 
Lest  we  that  talent  spend  : 
And  having  once  brought  to  an  end 
That  precious  stock,  the  store 
Of  such  a  wit  the  world  should  have  no  more.      20 


Thomas    Carew,   Poems,    1640  ; 
written  between  1630  and  1638. 

THE    SPRING. 

Now  that  winter  's  gone,  the  earth  hath  lost 

Her  snow-white  robes,  and  now  no  more  the  frost 

Candies  the  grass,  or  casts  an  icy  cream 

Upon  the  silver  lake  and  crystal  stream. 

But  the  warm  sun  thaws  the  benumbed  earth,  5 

And  makes  it  tender,  gives  a  sacred  birth 

To  the  dead  swallow,  wakes  in  hollow  tree 

The  drowsy  cuckoo  and  the  humble-bee. 

Now  do  a  choir  of  chirping  minstrels  bring. 

In  triumph  to  the  world,  the  youthful  spring  ;  10 

The  vallies,  hills  and  woods,  in  rich  array. 

Welcome  the  coming  of  the  longed-for  May. 

Now  all  things  smile,  only  my  love  doth  lower  ; 

Nor  hath  the  scalding  noon-day  sun  the  power 

To  melt  that  marble  ice  which  still  doth  hold  15 

Her  heart  congealed,  and  makes  her  pity  cold. 


64  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

The  ox,  which  lately  did  for  shelter  fly 

Into  the  stall,  doth  now  securely  lie 

In  open  fields  ;  and  love  no  more  is  made 

By  the  fire  side  ;  but,  in  the  cooler  shade,  20 

Amyntas  now  doth  with  his  Chloris  sleep 

Under  a  sycamore  ;  and  all  things  keep 

Time  with  the  season  —  only  she  doth  carry 

June  in  her  eyes,  in  her  heart  January. 

PERSUASIONS    TO    LOVE. 

Think  not  'cause  men  flatt'ring  say, 

Y'  are  fresh  as  April,  sweet  as  May, 

Bright  as  is  the  morning  star. 

That  you  are  so  ;  or,  though  you  are. 

Be  not  therefore  proud,  and  deem  5 

All  men  unworthy  your  esteem  : 

For,  being  so,  you  lose  the  pleasure 

Of  being  fair,  since  that  rich  treasure 

Of  rare  beauty  and  sweet  feature, 

Was  bestowed  on  you  by  nature  10 

To  be  enjoyed  ;  and  't  were  a  sin 

There  to  be  scarce,  where  she  hath  bin 

So  prodigal  of  her  best  graces. 

Thus  common  beauties  and  mean  faces 

Shall  have  more  pastime,  and  enjoy,  15 

The  sport  you  lose  by  being  coy. 

Did  the  thing  for  which  I  sue 

Only  concern  myself,  not  you  — 

Were  men  so  framed,  as  they  alone 

Reaped  all  the  pleasure,  women  none —  20 

Then  had  you  reason  to  be  scant ; 

But  't  were  madness  not  to  grant 

That  which  affords  (if  you  consent) 


THOMAS   CAREW.  65 

T6  you  the  giver,  more  content 

Than  me  the  beggar.     O  then  be  25 

Kind  to  yourself  if  not  to  me; 

Starve  not  yourself,  because  you  may 

Thereby  make  me  pine  away  ; 

Nor  let  brittle  beauty  make 

You  your  wiser  thoughts  forsake.  3° 

For  that  lovely  face  will  fail. 

Beauty  's  sweet,  but  beauty  's  frail ; 

'Tis  sooner  past,  'tis  sooner  done 

Than  summer's  rain  or  winter's  sun  ; 

Most  fleeting  when  it  is  most  dear —  35 

'T  is  gone  while  we  but  say  't  is  here. 

These  curious  locks,  so  aptly  twined. 

Whose  every  hair  my  soul  doth  bind. 

Will  change  their  abron  hue  and  grow 

White  and  cold  as  winter's  snow.  4° 

That  eye,  which  now  is  Cupid's  nest. 

Will  prove  his  grave,  and  all  the  rest 

Will  follow  ;  in  the  cheek,  chin,  nose, 

Nor  lily  shall  be  found,  nor  rose  : 

And  what  will  then  become  of  all  45 

Those  whom  now  you  servants  call } 

Like  swallows  when  your  summer  's  done, 

They  '11  fly  and  seek  some  warmer  sun. 

Then  wisely  choose  one  to  your  friend, 

Whose  love  may,  when  your  beauties  end,  5° 

Remain  still  firm  ;  be  provident 

And  think,  before  the  summer  's  spent, 

Of  following  winter  ;  like  the  ant 

In  plenty  hoard  for  time  is  scant. 

Cull  out  amongst  the  multitude  55 

Of  lovers,  that  seek  to  intrude 

Into  your  favor,  one  that  may 


66  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Love  for  an  age,  not  for  a  day ; 

One  that  will  quench  your  youthful  fires, 

And  feed  in  age  your  hot  desires.  60 

For  when  the  storms  of  time  have  moved 

Waves  on  that  cheek  that  was  beloved, 

When  a  fair  lady's  face  is  pined. 

And  yellow  spread  where  red  once  shined. 

When  beauty,  youth,  and  all  sweets  leave  her,         65 

Love  may  return,  but  lover  never  : 

And  old  folks  say  there  are  no  pains 

Like  itch  of  love  in  aged  veins. 

O  love  me  then,  and  now  begin  it, 

Let  us  not  lose  the  present  minute ;  70 

For  time  and  age  will  work  that  wrack 

Which  time  or  age  shall  ne'er  call  back. 

The  snake  each  year  fresh  skin  resumes. 

And  eagles  change  their  aged  plumes  ; 

The  faded  rose  each  spring  receives  75 

A  fresh  red  tincture  on  her  leaves  : 

But  if  your  beauty  once  decay, 

You  never  know  a  second  May. 

O  then  be  wise,  and  whilst  your  season 

Affords  you  days  for  sport,  do  reason  ;  80 

Spend  not  in  vain  your  life's  short  hour. 

But  crop  in  time  your  beauties'  flower. 

Which  will  away,  and  doth  together 

Both  bud  and  fade,  both  blow  and  wither. 

A    CRUEL    MISTRESS. 

We  read  of  kings  and  gods  that  kindly  took 
A  pitcher  filled  with  water  from  the  brook  ; 
But  I  have  daily  tendered  without  thanks 
Rivers  of  tears  that  overflow  their  banks. 


THOMAS   CAKEW.  67 

A  slaughtered  bull  will  appease  angry  Jove,  5 

A  horse  the  sun,  a  lamb  the  god  of  love  ; 

But  she  disdains  the  spotless  sacrifice 

Of  a  pure  heart  that  at  her  altar  lies. 

Vesta  is  not  displeased  if  her  chaste  urn 

Do  with  repaired  fuel  ever  burn,  lo 

But  my  saint  frowns,  though  to  her  honored  name 

I  consecrate  a  never-dying  flame. 

The  Assyrian  king  did  none  i'  the  furnace  throw 

But  those  that  to  his  image  did  not  bow; 

With  bended  knees  I  daily  worship  her,  15 

Yet  she  consumes  her  own  idolater. 

Of  such  a  goddess  no  times  leave  record. 

That  burned  the  temple  where  she  was  adored. 

MEDIOCRITY    IN    LOVE    REJECTED. 

Give  me  more  love,  or  more  disdain  : 

The  torrid,  or  the  frozen  zone 
Bring  equal  ease  unto  my  pain ; 

The  temperate  affords  me  none  : 
Either  extreme,  of  love  or  hate,  5 

Is  sweeter  than  a  calm  estate. 

Give  me  a  storm  ;  if  it  be  love, 

Like  Danae  in  that  golden  shower 
I  swim  in  pleasure  ;  if  it  prove 

Disdain,  that  torrent  will  devour  10 

My  vulture-hopes  ;  and  he  's  possessed 
Of  heaven  that 's  but  from  hell  released. 

Then  crown  my  joys,  or  cure  my  pain ; 
Give  me  more  love,  or  more  disdain. 


68  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 


TO    MY    INCONSTANT    MISTRESS. 

When  thou,  poor  excommunicate 
From  all  the  joys  of  love,  shalt  see 

The  full  reward  and  glorious  fate 

Which  my  strong  faith  shall  purchase  me, 

Then  curse  thine  own  inconstancy.  5 

A  fairer  hand  than  thine  shall  cure 

That  heart  which  thy  false  oaths  did  wound ; 

And  to  my  soul,  a  soul  more  pure 

Than  thine  shall  by  love's  hand  be  bound, 

And  both  with  equal  glory  crowned.  lo 

Then  shalt  thou  weep,  entreat,  complain 

To  Love,  as  I  did  once  to  thee ; 
When  all  thy  tears  shall  be  as  vain 

As  mine  were  then,  for  thou  shalt  be 

Damned  for  thy  false  apostasy.  15 


PERSUASIONS    TO    JOY. 

If  the  quick  spirits  in  your  eye 
Now  languish,  and  anon  must  die  ; 
If  every  sweet  and  every  grace 
Must  fly  from  that  forsaken  face  : 
Then,  Celia,  let  us  reap  our  joys 
Ere  time  such  goodly  fruit  destroys. 

Or,  if  that  golden  fleece  must  grow 
For  ever,  free  from  aged  snow ; 
If  those  bright  suns  must  know  no  shade. 
Nor  your  fresh  beauties  ever  fade  ; 


THOMAS   CARE  IV.  69 

Then  fear  not,  Celia,  to  bestow 

What  still  being  gathered  still  must  grow  : 

Thus,  either  Time  his  sickle  brings 

In  vain,  or  else  in  vain  his  wings. 


A    DEPOSITION    FROM    LOVE. 

I  WAS  foretold,  your  rebel  sex 

Nor  love  nor  pity  knew. 
And  with  what  scorn  you  use  to  vex 

Poor  hearts  that  humbly  sue  ; 
Yet  I  believed  to  crown  our  pain,  5 

Could  we  the  fortress  win, 
The  happy  lover  sure  should  gain 

A  paradise  within. 
I  thought  love's  plagues  like  dragons  sate, 
Only  to  fright  us  at  the  gate.  lo 

But  I  did  enter,  and  enjoy 

What  happy  lovers  prove. 
For  I  could  kiss,  and  sport,  and  toy, 

And  taste  those  sweets  of  love 
Which,  had  they  but  a  lasting  state,  15 

Or  if  in  Celia's  breast 
The  force  of  love  might  not  abate, 

Jove  were  too  mean  a  guest. 
But  now  her  breach  of  faith  far  more 
Afiflicts  than  did  her  scorn  before.  20 

Hard  fate !  to  have  been  once  possest, 

As  victor,  of  a  heart 
Achieved  with  labor  and  unrest. 

And  then  forced  to  depart ! 
If  the  stout  foe  will  not  resign  25 


70  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

When  I  besiege  a  town, 
I  lose  but  what  was  never  mine  ; 

But  he  that  is  cast  down 
From  enjoyed  beauty,  feels  a  woe 
Only  deposed  kings  can  know,  3° 


CELIA    SINGING. 

You  that  think  love  can  convey 

No  other  way 
But  through  the  eyes,  into  the  heart 

His  fatal  dart. 
Close  up  those  casements,  and  but  hear  5 

This  siren  sing ; 

And  on  the  wing 
Of  her  sweet  voice  it  shall  appear 
That  love  can  enter  at  the  ear. 

Then  unveil  your  eyes,  behold  10 

The  curious  mould 
Where  that  voice  dwells ;  and  as  we  know 

When  the  cocks  crow 

We  freely  may 

Gaze  on  the  day;  15 

So  may  you,  when  the  music  's  done 
Awake,  and  see  the  rising  sun. 


TO    T.    H., 

A    LADY    RESEMBLING    HIS     MISTRESS. 

Fair  copy  of  my  Celia's  face, 
Twin  of  my  soul,  thy  perfect  grace 
Claims  in  my  love  an  equal  place. 


THOMAS   CARE IV.  71 

Disdain  not  a  divided  heart, 

Though  all  be  hers,  you  shall  have  part ;  5 

Love  is  not  tied  to  rules  of  art. 

For  as  my  soul  first  to  her  flew, 
It  stayed  with  me ;  so  now  't  is  true 
It  dwells  with  her,  though  fled  to  you. 

Then  entertain  this  wand'ring  guest,  lo 

And  if  not  love,  allow  it  rest ; 
It  left  not,  but  mistook  the  nest. 

Nor  think  my  love,  or  your  fair  eyes 
Cheaper  'cause  from  the  sympathies 
You  hold  with  her,  these  flames  arise.  i5 

To  lead,  or  brass,  or  some  such  bad 
Metal,  a  prince's  stamp  may  add 
That  value  which  it  never  had. 

But  to  pure  refined  ore. 

The  stamp  of  kings  imparts  no  more  20 

Worth  than  the  metal  held  before ; 

Only  the  image  gives  the  rate 

To  subjects,  in  a  foreign  state 

'T  is  prized  as  much  for  its  own  weight. 

So  though  all  other  hearts  resign  25 

To  your  pure  worth,  yet  you  have  mine 
Only  because  you  are  her  coin. 


72  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

IN    THE    PERSON    OF    A    LADY     TO    HER 
INCONSTANT    SERVANT. 

When  on  the  altar  of  my  hand, 

(Bedewed  with  many  a  kiss  and  tear), 

Thy  now  revolted  heart  did  stand 
An  humble  martyr,  thou  didst  swear 
Thus  (and  the  god  of  love  did  hear):  5 

'  By  those  bright  glances  of  thine  eye. 

Unless  thou  pity  me,  I  die.' 

When  first  those  perjured  lips  of  thine, 
Bepaled  with  blasting  sighs,  did  seal 

Their  violated  faith  on  mine,  lo 

From  the  soft  bosom  that  did  heal 
Thee,  thou  my  melting  heart  didst  steal; 

My  soul,  enfiamed  with  thy  false  breath, 

Poisoned  with  kisses,  sucked  in  death. 

Yet  I  nor  hand  nor  lip  will  move,  »5 

Revenge  or  mercy  to  procure 

From  the  offended  god  of  love ; 
My  curse  is  fatal,  and  my  pure 
Love  shall  beyond  thy  scorn  endure. 

If  I  implore  the  gods,  they  '11  find  20 

Thee  too  ungrateful,  me  too  kind. 

RED    AND    WHITE    ROSES. 

Read  in  these  roses  the  sad  story 

Of  my  hard  fate  and  your  own  glory : 

In  the  white  you  may  discover 

The  paleness  of  a  fainting  lover ; 

In  the  red,  the  flames  still  feeding  S 

On  my  heart  with  fresh  wounds  bleeding. 


THOMAS   CAREW.  73 

The  white  will  tell  you  how  I  languish, 

And  the  red  express  my  anguish: 

The  white  my  innocence  displaying, 

The  red  my  martyrdom  betraying.  lo 

The  frowns  that  on  your  brow  resided, 

Have  those  roses  thus  divided; 

O  !  let  your  smiles  but  clear  the  weather, 

And  then  they  both  shall  grow  together. 

EPITAPH    ON    LADY    MARY    WENTWORTH. 

And  here  the  precious  dust  is  laid, 
Whose  purely-tempered  clay  was  made 
So  fine,  that  it  the  guest  betrayed. 

Else  the  soul  grew  so  fast  within. 

It  broke  the  outward  shell  of  sin,  S 

And  so  was  hatched  a  cherubin. 

In  height,  it  soared  to  God  above. 
In  depth,  it  did  to  knowledge  move. 
And  spread  in  breadth  to  general  love. 

Before,  a  pious  duty  shined  lo 

To  parents,  courtesy  behind. 
On  either  side  an  equal  mind. 

Good  to  the  poor,  to  kindred  dear, 

To  servants  kind,  to  friendship  clear, 

To  nothing  but  herself  severe.  15 

So,  though  a  virgin,  yet  a  bride 
To  every  grace,  she  justified 
A  chaste  polygamy,  and  died. 


74  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Learn  from  hence,  reader,  what  small  trust 
We  owe  this  world,  where  virtue  must, 
Frail  as  our  flesh,  crumble  to  dust. 


A   SONG. 

Ask  me  no  more  where  Jove  bestows, 
When  June  is  past,  the  fading  rose ; 
For  in  your  beauty's  orient  deep, 
These  flowers,  as  in  their  causes,  sleep. 

Ask  me  no  more  whither  do  stray  5 

The  golden  atoms  of  the  day; 

For,  in  pure  love,  heaven  did  prepare 

Those  powders  to  enrich  your  hair. 

Ask  me  no  more  whither  doth  haste 

The  nightingale,  when  May  is  past ;  lo 

For  in  your  sweet  dividing  throat 

She  winters,  and  keeps  warm  her  note. 

Ask  me  no  more  where  those  stars  light, 

That  downwards  fall  in  dead  of  night; 

For  in  your  eyes  they  sit,  and  there  '5 

Fixed  become,  as  in  their  sphere. 

Ask  me  no  more  if  east  or  west, 

The  phoenix  builds  her  spicy  nest; 

For  unto  you  at  last  she  flies. 

And  in  your  fragrant  bosom  dies.  20 


ROBERT  HER  RICK.  75 

MURDERING    BEAUTY. 

I  'll  gaze  no  more  on  that  bewitched  face, 

Since  ruin  harbors  there  in  every  place, 

For  my  enchanted  soul  alike  she  drowns, 

With  calms  and  tempests  of  her  smiles  and  frowns. 

I  '11  love  no  more  those  cruel  eyes  of  hers,  S 

Which,  pleased  or  angered,  still  are  murderers  ; 

For  if  she  dart  like  lightning  through  the  air 

Her  beams  of  wrath,  she  kills  me  with  despair; 

If  she  behold  me  with  a  pleasing  eye, 

I  surfeit  with  excess  of  joy,  and  die.  lo 


Robert  Herrick,  Hesperides, 
1648;  written  between  1629  and 
1640. 

DELIGHT    IN    DISORDER. 

A  SWEET  disorder  in  the  dress 

Kindles  in  clothes  a  wantonness. 

A  lawn  about  the  shoulders  thrown 

Into  a  fine  distraction; 

An  erring  lace,  which  here  and  there 

Enthralls  the  crimson  stomacher; 

A  cuff  neglectful,  and  thereby 

Ribbands  to  flow  confusedly; 

A  winning  wave  (deserving  note) 

In  the  tempestuous  petticoat ; 

A  careless  shoe-string,  in  whose  tie 

I  see  a  wild  civility; 

Do  more  bewitch  me,  than  when  art 

Is  too  precise  in  every  part. 


76  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

TO    LAURELS. 

A  FUNERAL  Stone 

Or  verse,  I  covet  none  ; 

But  only  crave 
Of  you  that  I  may  have 
A  sacred  laurel  springing  from  my  grave ; 

Which  being  seen 
Blest  with  perpetual  green, 

May  grow  to  be 
Not  so  much  called  a  tree 
As  the  eternal  monument  of  me. 


TO   THE   VIRGINS,   TO    MAKE   MUCH    OF    TIME. 

Gather  ye  rosebuds  while  ye  may. 

Old  time  is  still  a-flying ; 
And  this  same  flower  that  smiles  to-day, 

To-morrow  will  be  dying. 

The  glorious  lamp  of  heaven,  the  sun,  5 

The  higher  he  's  a-getting. 
The  sooner  will  his  race  be  run. 

And  nearer  he  's  to  setting. 

That  age  is  best  which  is  the  first. 

When  youth  and  blood  are  warmer ;  lo 

But  being  spent,  the  worse,  and  worst 

Times  still  succeed  the  former. 

Then  be  not  coy,  but  use  your  time. 

And  while  ye  may,  go  marry  ; 
For  having  lost  but  once  your  prime,  15 

You  may  forever  tarry. 


ROBERT  HERRICK.  77 

TO    THE    WESTERN    WIND. 

Sweet  western  wind,  whose  luck  it  is, 

Made  rival  with  the  air, 
To  give  Perenna's  lip  a  kiss, 

And  fan  her  wanton  hair, 

Bring  me  but  one,  I  '11  promise  thee,  5 

Instead  of  common  showers. 
Thy  wings  shall  be  embalmed  by  me. 

And  all  beset  with  flowers. 

TO    PRIMROSES    FILLED    WITH    MORNING    DEW. 

Why  do  ye  weep,  sweet  babes  ?     Can  tears 
Speak  grief  in  you. 
Who  were  but  born 
Just  as  the  modest  morn 
Teemed  her  refreshing  dew  ?  S 

Alas,  you  have  not  known  that  shower 
That  mars  a  flower. 
Nor  felt  the  unkind 
Breath  of  a  blasting  wind. 
Nor  are  ye  worn  with  years,  lo 

Or  warped,  as  we, 
Who  think  it  strange  to  see 
Such  pretty  flowers,  like  to  orphans  young. 
To  speak  by  tears  before  ye  have  a  tongue. 

Speak,  whimpering  younglings,  and  make  known     15 

The  reason  why 

Ye  droop  and  weep. 
Is  it  for  want  of  sleep. 
Or  childish  lullaby? 


78  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Or  that  ye  have  not  seen  as  yet  20 

The  violet  ? 
Or  brought  a  kiss 
From  that  sweetheart  to  this  ? 
No,  no,  this  sorrow  shown 

By  your  tears  shed  25 

Would  have  this  lecture  read  : 
That  things  of  greatest,  so  of  meanest  worth, 
Conceived  with  grief  are,  and  with  tears  brought  forth. 


TO    ANTHEA, 

WHO    MAY    COMMAND    HIM    ANYTHING. 

Bid  me  to  live,  and  I  will  live 

Thy  protestant  to  be  ; 
Or  bid  me  love,  and  I  will  give 

A  loving  heart  to  thee. 

A  heart  as  soft,  a  heart  as  kind,  5 

A  heart  as  sound  and  free, 
As  in  the  whole  world  thou  canst  find, 

That  heart  I  '11  give  to  thee. 

Bid  that  heart  stay  and  it  will  stay, 

To  honor  thy  decree;  10 

Or  bid  it  languish  quite  away, 

And  't  shall  do  so  for  thee. 

Bid  me  to  weep,  and  I  will  weep. 

While  I  have  eyes  to  see; 
And  having  none,  yet  I  will  keep  15 

A  heart  to  weep  for  thee. 

Bid  me  despair,  and  I  'U  despair, 
Under  that  cypress  tree  ; 


ROBERT  HER  RICK.  79 

Or  bid  me  die,  and  I  will  dare 

E'en  death,  to  die  for  thee.  20 

Thou  art  my  life,  my  love,  my  heart, 

The  very  eyes  of  me. 
And  hast  command  of  every  part 

To  live  and  die  for  thee. 


TO    MEADOWS. 

Ye  have  been  fresh  and  green. 

Ye  have  been  filled  with  flowers ; 
And  ye  the  walks  have  been 

Where  maids  have  spent  their  hours. 

You  have  beheld  how  they  5 

With  wicker  arks  did  come, 
To  kiss  and  bear  away 

The  richer  cowslips  home. 

Y  'ave  heard  them  sweetly  sing, 

And  seen  them  in  a  round ;  10 

Each  virgin,  like  a  spring. 

With  honeysuckles  crowned. 

But  now,  we  see  none  here. 

Whose  silv'ry  feet  did  tread. 
And  with  dishevelled  hair  15 

Adorned  this  smoother  mead. 

Like  unthrifts,  having  spent 

Your  stock,  and  needy  grown, 
Y'  are  left  here  to  lament 

Your  poor  estates,  alone.  ^o 


80  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 


.    TO    DAFFODILS. 

Fair  daffodils,  we  weep  to  see 
You  haste  away  so  soon ; 
As  yet  the  early  rising  sun 

Has  not  attained  his  noon. 

Stay,  stay,  5 

Until  the  hasting  day 

Has  run 
But  to  the  even-song ; 
And,  having  prayed  together,  we 

Will  go  with  you  along.  10 

We  have  short  time  to  stay,  as  you 

We  have  as  short  a  spring ; 
As  quick  a  growth  to  meet  decay 
As  you,  or  any  thing. 

We  die,  15 

As  your  hours  do,  and  dry 

Away, 
Like  to  the  summer's  rain  ; 
Or  as  the  pearls  of  morning's  dew, 

Ne'er  to  be  found  again.  20 

TO    BLOSSOMS. 

Fair  pledges  of  a  fruitful  tree, 

Why  do  ye  fall  so  fast  ? 

Your  date  is  not  so  past 
But  you  may  stay  yet  here  a  while. 

To  blush  and  gently  smile,  5 

And  go  at  last. 


ROBERT  HER  RICK.  81 

What,  were  ye  born  to  be 

An  hour  or  half's  delight, 

And  so  to  bid  good-night  ? 
'T  was  pity  Nature  brought  ye  forth,  lo 

Merely  to  show  your  worth, 
And  lose  you  quite. 

But  you  are  lovely  leaves,  where  we 
May  read  how  soon  things  have 
Their  end,  though  ne'er  so  brave ;  '5 

And  after  they  have  shown  their  pride 
Like  you  awhile,  they  glide 
Into  the  grave. 

HIS    GRANGE,  OR    PRIVATE   WEALTH. 

Though  clock, 
To  tell  how  night  draws  hence,  I  've  none, 

A  cock 
I  have  to  sing  how  day  draws  on. 

I  have  ^ 

A  maid,  my  True,  by  good  luck  sent. 

To  save 
That  little  Fates  me  gave  or  lent. 

A  hen 
I  keep,  which,  creaking  day  by  day,  lo 

Tells  when 
She  goes  her  long  white  egg  to  lay. 

A  goose 
I  have,  which,  with  a  jealous  ear. 

Lets  loose  ^5 

Her  tongue  to  tell  what  danger 's  near. 

A  lamb 
I  keep,  tame,  with  my  morsels  fed, 


82  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Whose  dam 
An  orphan  left  him,  lately  dead.  20 

A  cat 
I  keep,  that  plays  about  my  house, 

Grown  fat 
With  eating  many  a  miching  mouse ; 

To  these  25 

A  Tracy  I  do  keep,  whereby 

I  please 
The  more  my  rural  privacy : 

Which  are 
But  toys,  to  give  my  heart  some  ease.  30 

Where  care 
None  is,  slight  things  do  lightly  please. 

Robert  Herrick,  Noble  Num- 
bers, 164-/  ;  written  between 
1629  and  1640. 

TO    DEATH. 

Thou  bidd'st  me  come  away, 

And  I  '11  no  longer  stay 

Than  for  to  shed  some  tears 

For  faults  of  former  years. 

And  to  repent  some  crimes  5 

Done  in  the  present  times  ; 

And  next,  to  take  a  bit 

Of  bread,  and  wine  with  it ; 

To  don  my  robes  of  love, 

Fit  for  the  place  above  ;  10 

To  gird  my  loins  about 

With  charity  throughout, 

And  so  to  travel  hence 

With  feet  of  innocence  : 


ROBERT  HER  RICK.  83 

These  done,  I  '11  only  cry,  15 

"  God,  mercy  !  "  and  so  die. 


A    THANKSGIVING    TO    GOD    FOR    HIS    HOUSE. 

Lord,  thou  hast  given  me  a  cell 

Wherein  to  dwell, 
A  little  house,  whose  humble  roof 

Is  weatherproof, 
Under  the  spars  of  which  I  lie  5 

Both  soft  and  dry  ; 
Where  thou,  my  chamber  for  to  ward. 

Hast  set  a  guard 
Of  harmless  thoughts,  to  watch  and  keep 

Me  while  I  sleep.  10 

Low  is  my  porch,  as  is  my  fate, 

Both  void  of  state  ; 
And  yet  the  threshold  of  my  door 

Is  worn  by  th'  poor, 
Who  thither  come  and  freely  get  15 

Good  words  or  meat. 
Like  as  my  parlor  so  my  hall 

And  kitchen  's  small ; 
A  little  buttery,  and  therein 

A  little  bin,  20 

Which  keeps  my  little  loaf  of  bread 

Unchipped,  untied  ; 
Some  brittle  sticks  of  thorn  or  briar 

Make  me  a  fire, 
Close  by  whose  living  coal  I  sit,  25 

And  glow  like  it. 
Lord,  I  confess  too,  when  I  dine. 

The  pulse  is  thine, 


84  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

And  all  those  other  bits  that  be 

There  placed  by  thee  ;  3° 

The  worts,  the  purslane,  and  the  mess 

Of  water-cress, 
Which  of  thy  kindness  thou  hast  sent ; 

And  my  content 
Makes  those,  and  my  beloved  beet,  35 

To  be  more  sweet. 
'T  is  thou  that  crown'st  my  glittering  hearth 

With  guiltless  mirth, 
And  giv'st  me  wassail  bowls  to  drink, 

Spiced  to  the  brink.  4° 

Lord,  't  is  thy  plenty-dropping  hand 

That  soils  my  land. 
And  giv'st  me,  for  my  bushel  sown, 

Twice  ten  for  one  ; 
Thou  mak'st  my  teeming  hen  to  lay  45 

Her  egg  each  day ; 
Besides  my  healthful  ewes  to  bear 

Me  twins  each  year; 
The  while  the  conduits  of  my  kine 

Run  cream,  for  wine.  5° 

All  these,  and  better  thou  dost  send 

Me,  to  this  end. 
That  I  should  render,  for  my  part, 

A  thankful  heart. 
Which,  fired  with  incense,  I  resign,  55 

As  wholly  thine  ; 
But  the  acceptance,  —  that  must  be, 

My  Christ,  by  thee. 


WILLIAM  HABINGTON.  85 


William    Habington,    Castara, 
Part  III,  1639-40. 

NOX    NOCTI    INDICAT    SCIENTIAM. 

When  I  survey  the  bright 
Celestial  sphere, 
So  rich  with  jewels  hung,  that  night 
Doth  like  an  Ethiop  bride  appear, 

My  soul  her  wings  doth  spread,  5 

And  heavenward  flies. 
The  Almighty's  mysteries  to  read 
In  the  large  volume  of  the  skies. 

For  the  bright  firmament 

Shoots  forth  no  flame  10 

So  silent,  but  is  eloquent 
In  speaking  the  Creator's  name. 

No  unregarded  star 
Contracts  its  light 
Into  so  small  a  character,  15 

Removed  far  from  our  human  sight. 

But,  if  we  steadfast  look. 
We  shall  discern 
In  it,  as  in  some  holy  book, 
How  man  may  heavenly  knowledge  learn.  20 

It  tells  the  conqueror, 

That  far-stretched  power 
Which  his  proud  dangers  traffic  for, 
Is  but  the  triumph  of  an  hour. 


86  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

That  from  the  farthest  north  25 

Some  nation  may, 
Yet  undiscovered,  issue  forth, 
And  o'er  his  new-got  conquest  sway. 

Some  nation  yet  shut  in 

With  hills  of  ice  ■  30 

May  be  let  out  to  scourge  his  sin, 
Till  they  shall  equal  him  in  vice. 

And  then  they  likewise  shall 
Their  ruin  have  ; 
For  as  yourselves  your  empires  fall,  35 

And  every  kingdom  hath  a  grave. 

Thus  those  celestial  fires. 
Though  seeming  mute 
The  fallacy  of  our  desires 
And  all  the  pride  of  life  confute,  40 

For  they  have  watched  since  first 
The  world  had  birth  : 
And  found  sin  in  itself  accursed, 
And  nothing  permanent  on  earth. 


William  Habington,  Cleodora, 
the  Quee7i  of  Arragon,  1640. 

HIS  MISTRESS  FLOUTED. 

Fine  young  folly,  though  you  were 
That  fair  beauty  I  did  swear. 

Yet  you  ne'er  could  reach  my  heart; 
For  we  courtiers  learn  at  school 
Only  with  your  sex  to  fool ; 

You  're  not  worth  the  serious  part. 


JAMES  SHIRLEY.  87 

When  I  sigh  and  kiss  your  hand, 
Cross  my  arms  and  wondering  stand, 

Holding  parley  with  your  eye, 
Then  dilate  on  my  desires,  ^o 

Swear  the  sun  ne'er  shot  such  fires  — 

All  is  but  a  handsome  lie. 

When  I  eye  your  curl  or  lace. 
Gentle  soul,  you  think  your  face 

Straight  some  murder  doth  commit ;  15 

And  your  virtue  both  begin 
To  grow  scrupulous  of  my  sin, 

When  I  talk  to  show  my  wit. 

Therefore,  madam,  wear  no  cloud, 

Nor  to  check  my  love  grow  proud  ;  20 

In  sooth  I  much  do  doubt 
'T  is  the  powder  in  your  hair, 
Not  your  breath,  perfumes  the  air, 

And  your  clothes  that  set  you  out. 

Yet  though  truth  has  this  confessed,  25 

And  I  vow  I  love  in  jest. 

When  I  next  begin  to  court. 
And  protest  an  amorous  flame. 
You  will  swear  I  in  earnest  am. 

Bedlam  !  this  is  pretty  sport.  3° 


James  Shirley,   The  Imposture, 
1652  ;  acted  1 640. 

PEACE   RESTORED. 

You  virgins,  that  did  late  despair 
To  keep  your  wealth  from  cruel  men. 


SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Tie  up  in  silk  your  careless  hair : 
Soft  peace  is  come  again. 

Now  lovers'  eyes  may  gently  shoot  s 

A  flame  that  will  not  kill ; 
The  drum  was  angry,  but  the  lute 

Shall  whisper  what  you  will. 

Sing  lo,  lo  !  for  his  sake, 

That  hath  restored  your  drooping  heads ;  lo 

With  choice  of  sweetest  flowers  make 

A  garden  where  he  treads  ; 

Whilst  we  whole  groves  of  laurel  bring, 

A  petty  triumph  to  his  brow. 
Who  is  the  master  of  our  spring  15 

And  all  the  bloom  we  owe. 


SONG   OF   THE  NUNS. 

O  FLY,  my  soul !  what  hangs  upon 

Thy  drooping  wings, 

And  weighs  them  down 
With  love  of  gaudy  mortal  things  ? 

The  sun  is  now  i'  the  east ;  each  shade, 

As  he  doth  rise. 

Is  shorter  made. 
That  earth  may  lessen  to  our  eyes. 

O,  be  not  careless  then  and  play 

Until  the  star  of  peace 
Hide  all  his  beams  in  dark  recess. 
Poor  pilgrims  needs  must  lose  their  way 
When  all  the  shadows  do  increase. 


JAMES  SHIRLEY.  89 

James  Shirley,  The  Cojitentiort 
of  Ajax  and  Ulysses,  1659  ; 
written  about  1640. 

NO   ARMOR  AGAINST  FATE. 

The  glories  of  our  blood  and  state 

Are  shadows,  not  substantial  things; 
There  is  no  armor  against  fate  ; 
Death  lays  his  icy  hand  on  kings : 

Sceptre  and  crown  S 

Must  tumble  down, 
And  in  the  dust  be  equal  made 
With  the  poor  crooked  scythe  and  spade. 

Some  men  with  swords  may  reap  the  field, 

And  plant  fresh  laurels  where  they  kill;  10 

But  their  strong  nerves  at  last  must  yield. 
They  tame  but  one  another  still: 
Early  or  late 
They  stoop  to  fate 
And  must  give  up  their  murmuring  breath  15 

When  they,  pale  captives,  creep  to  death. 

The  garlands  wither  on  your  brow, 

Then  boast  no  more  your  mighty  deeds ; 
Upon  Death's  purple  altar  now 

See  where  the  victor-victim  bleeds :  20 

Your  heads  must  come 
To  the  cold  tomb ; 
Only  the  actions  of  the  just 
Smell  sweet,  and  blossom  in  their  dust. 


90  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Robert     Herrick,    Hesperides, 
1648;  written  before  1641. 

HIS    WINDING-SHEET. 

Come  thou,  who  art  the  wine  and  wit 

Of  all  I  've  writ ; 
The  grace,  the  glory,  and  the  best 

Piece  of  the  rest ; 
Thou  art  of  what  I  did  intend  5 

The  all  and  end ; 
And  what  was  made,  was  made  to  meet 

Thee,  thee  my  sheet  : 
Come  then,  and  be  to  my  chaste  side 

Both  bed  and  bride.  10 

We  two,  as  relics  left,  will  have 

One  rest,  one  grave ; 
And,  hugging  close,  we  will  not  fear 

Lust  entering  here, 
Where  all  desires  are  dead  or  cold,  15 

As  is  the  mould ; 
And  all  affections  are  forgot, 

Or  trouble  not. 
Here,  here  the  slaves  and  pris'ners  be 

From  shackles  free,  20 

And  weeping  widows,  long  oppressed, 

Do  here  find  rest. 
The  wronged  client  ends  his  laws 

Here,  and  his  cause  ; 
Here  those  long  suits  of  Chancery  lie  25 

Quiet,  or  die, 
And  all  Star  Chamber  bills  do  cease. 

Or  hold  their  peace. 
Here  needs  no  Court  for  our  Request, 

Where  all  are  best,  3° 


GEORGE   WITHER.  91 

All  wise,  all  equal,  and  all  just 

Alike  i'  th'  dust. 
Nor  need  we  here  to  fear  the  frown 

Of  court  or  crown  : 
Where  Fortune  bears  no  sway  o'er  things,  35 

There  all  are  kings. 
In  this  securer  place  we  '11  keep. 

As  lulled  asleep ; 
Or  for  a  little  time  we  '11  lie. 

As  robes  laid  by,  4o 

To  be  another  day  re-worn, 

Turned,  but  not  torn  ; 
Or  like  old  testaments  engrossed. 

Locked  up,  not  lost ; 
And  for  a  while  lie  here  concealed,  45 

To  be  revealed 
Next,  at  that  great  Platonic  Year, 

And  then  meet  here. 


George  Wither,  Haleluiah,  or 
Britain's  Second  Remembrancer, 
1641. 

A    ROCKING   HYMN. 

Sweet  baby  sleep  !  what  ails  my  dear, 

What  ails  my  darling  thus  to  cry  ? 
Be  still,  my  child,  and  lend  thine  ear 
To  hear  me  sing  thy  lullaby: 

My  pretty  lamb,  forbear  to  weep, 
Be  still  my  dear,  sweet  baby  sleep. 

Thou  blessed  soul,  what  canst  thou  fear  ? 
What  thing  to  thee  can  mischief  do  ? 


92  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Thy  God  is  now  thy  father  dear, 

His  holy  spouse,  thy  mother  too :  lo 

Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep, 
Be  still  my  babe,  sweet  baby  sleep. 

Though  thy  conception  was  in  sin, 
A  sacred  bathing  thou  hast  had ; 
And,  though  thy  birth  unclean  hath  been,  15 

A  blameless  babe  thou  now  art  made  : 
Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep. 
Be  still  my  dear,  sweet  baby  sleep. 

Whilst  thus  thy  lullaby  I  sing, 

For  thee  great  blessings  ripening  be  ;  20 

Thine  eldest  brother  is  a  king. 

And  hath  a  kingdom  bought  for  thee : 
Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep, 
Be  still  my  babe,  sweet  baby  sleep. 

Sweet  baby  sleep  and  nothing  fear,  25 

For  whosoever  thee  offends. 
By  thy  protector  threat'ned  are, 

And  God  and  angels  are  thy  friends : 
Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep. 
Be  still  my  babe,  sweet  baby  sleep.  3° 

When  God  with  us  was  dwelling  here, 

In  little  babes  he  took  delight ; 

Such  innocents  as  thou,  my  dear, 

Are  ever  precious  in  his  sight : 

Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep,  35 

Be  still  my  babe,  sweet  baby  sleep. 

A  little  infant  once  was  he. 

And,  strength  in  weakness,  then  was  laid 
Upon  his  virgin-mother's  knee. 


GEORGE   WITHER.  93 

That  power  to  thee  might  be  conveyed :  40 

Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep, 
Be  still  my  babe,  sweet  baby  sleep. 

In  this,  thy  frailty  and  thy  need. 

He  friends  and  helpers  doth  prepare. 
Which  thee  shall  cherish,  clothe  and  feed,  45 

For  of  thy  weal  they  tender  are  : 

Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep, 
Be  still  my  babe,  sweet  baby  sleep. 

The  king  of  kings,  when  he  was  born. 

Had  not  so  much  for  outward  ease  ;  50 

By  him  such  dressings  were  not  worn. 

Nor  such  like  swaddling-clothes  as  these : 
Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep. 
Be  still  my  babe,  sweet  baby  sleep. 

Within  a  manger  lodged  thy  lord  55 

Where  oxen  lay  and  asses  fed ; 
Warm  rooms  we  do  to  thee  afford. 
An  easy  cradle  or  a  bed  : 

Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep, 

Be  still  my  babe,  sweet  baby  sleep.  60 

The  wants  that  he  did  then  sustain 

Have  purchased  wealth,  my  babe,  for  thee ; 
And  by  his  torments  and  his  pain 
Thy  rest  and  ease  secured  be  : 

My  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep,  65 

Be  still  my  babe,  sweet  baby  sleep. 

Thou  hast  (yet  more)  to  perfect  this 

A  promise  and  an  earnest  got 
Of  gaining  everlasting  bliss, 


94  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Though  thou,  my  babe,  perceiv'st  it  not :  7° 

Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep, 
Be  still  my  babe,  sweet  baby  sleep. 


William  Cartwright,  Comedies, 
Tragi-Comcdics  and  Other  Poems, 
1651;  written  before  1641. 

TO    CUPID. 

Thou  who  didst  never  see  the  light, 

Nor  knowst  the  pleasure  of  the  sight, 

But  always  blinded,  canst  not  say 

Now  it  is  night,  or  now  't  is  day, 
So  captivate  her  sense,  so  blind  her  eye, 
That  still  she  love  me,  yet  she  ne'er  know  why. 

Thou  who  dost  wound  us  with  such  art. 
We  see  no  blood  drop  from  the  heart, 
And,  subtly  cruel,  leav'st  no  sign 
To  tell  the  blow  or  hand  was  thine, 
O  gently,  gently  wound  my  fair,  that  she 
May  thence  believe  the  wound  did  come  from  me. 

VENUS. 

Venus,  redress  a  wrong  that 's  done 
By  that  young  sprightful  boy,  thy  son. 
He  wounds,  and  then  laughs  at  the  sore  : 
Hatred  itself  can  do  no  more. 
If  I  pursue,  he  's  small  and  light, 
Both  seen  at  once,  and  out  of  sight ; 
If  I  do  fly,  he  's  wing'd,  and  then 
At  the  third  step  I  'm  caught  again  : 


WILLIAM  CAKTWRIGHT.  95 

Lest  one  day  thou  thyself  mayst  suffer  so, 

Or  clip  the  wanton's  wings  or  break  his  bow.  lo 


TO    CHLOE, 

WHO    WISHED    HERSELF    YOUNG    ENOUGH    FOR    ME. 

O  Chloe,  why  wish  you  that  your  years 
Would  backwards  run  till  they  meet  mine, 

That  perfect  likeness,  which  endears 
Things  unto  things,  might  us  combine  t 

Our  ages  so  in  date  agree, 

That  twins  do  differ  more  than  we. 

There  are  two  births,  the  one  when  light 
First  strikes  the  new  awak'ned  sense ; 

The  other  when  two  souls  unite  ; 

And  we  must  count  our  life  from  thence  : 

When  you  loved  me  and  I  loved  you, 

Then  both  of  us  were  born  anew. 

Love  then  to  us  new  souls  did  give, 

And  in  those  souls  did  plant  new  powers ; 

Since  when  another  life  we  live, 

The  breath  we  breathe  is  his,  not  ours  ; 

Love  makes  those  young  whom  age  doth  chill, 

And  whom  he  finds  young,  keeps  young  still. 

Love,  like  that  angel  that  shall  call 
Our  bodies  from  the  silent  grave, 

Unto  one  age  doth  raise  us  all, 

None  too  much,  none  too  little  have ; 

Nay,  that  the  difference  may  be  none, 

He  makes  two  not  alike,  but  one. 


96  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

And  now,  since  you  and  I  are  such,  25 

Tell  me  what 's  yours,  and  what  is  mine  ? 

Our  eyes,  our  ears,  our  taste,  smell,  touch. 
Do  —  likjs  our  souls  —  in  one  combine  ; 

So  by  this,  I  as  well  may  be 

Too  old  for  you,  as  you  for  me.  30 


A   VALEDICTION. 

Bid  me  not  go  where  neither  suns  nor  showers 

Do  make  or  cherish  flowers  ; 
Where  discontented  things  in  sadness  lie 

And  Nature  grieves  as  I ; 
When  I  am  parted  from  those  eyes,  5 

From  which  my  better  day  doth  rise. 

Though  some  propitious  power 

Should  plant  me  in  a  bower, 
Where  amongst  happy  lovers  I  might  see 

How  showers  and  sunbeams  bring  10 

One  everlasting  spring, 
Nor  would  those  fall  nor  these  shine  forth  to  me : 

Nature  to  him  is  lost. 

Who  loseth  her  he  honors  most. 

Then  fairest  to  my  parting  view  display  15 

Your  graces  all  in  one  full  day. 
Whose  blessed  shapes  I  '11  snatch  and  keep,  till  when 

I  do  return  and  view  again  : 
So  by  this  art  fancy  shall  fortune  cross. 
And  lovers  live  by  thinking  on  their  loss.  20 


WILLIAM  CARTWRIGHT.  97 

LOVE    BUT    ONE. 

See  these  two  little  brooks  that  slowly  creep 

In  snaky  windings  through  the  plains, 
I  knew  them  once  one  river,  swift  and  deep, 

Blessing  and  blest  by  poets'  strains. 

Then,  touched  with  awe,  we  thought  some  god  did  pour    5 

Those  floods  from  out  his  sacred  jar, 
Transforming  every  weed  into  a  flower, 

And  every  flower  into  a  star. 

But  since  it  broke  itself,  and  double  glides, 

The  naked  banks  no  dress  have  worn,  10 

And  yon  dry  barren  mountain  now  divides 

These  valleys  which  lost  glories  mourn. 

O  Chloris,  think  how  this  presents  thy  love. 

Which,  when  it  ran  but  in  one  stream. 
We  happy  shepherds  thence  did  thrive  and  prove,  15 

And  thou  wast  mine  and  all  men's  theme. 

But  since  't  hath  been  imparted  to  one  more, 

And  in  two  streams  doth  weakly  creep. 
Our  common  Muse  is  thence  grown  low  and  poor, 

And  mine  as  lean  as  these  my  sheep.  20 

But  think  withal  what  honor  thou  hast  lost. 

Which  we  did  to  thy  full  stream  pay. 
Whiles  now  that  swain  that  swears  he  loves  thee  most. 

Slakes  but  his  thirst,  and  goes  away. 

O  in  what  narrow  ways  our  minds  must  move  !  25 

We  may  not  hate,  nor  yet  diffuse  our  love. 


98  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 


From    Wifs    Recreations,    ed.    1 64 1, 
author  unknown. 

THE    SAD    LOVER. 

Why  should  I  wrong  my  judgment  so, 
As  for  to  love  where  I  do  know 

There  is  no  hold  for  to  be  taken .? 

For  what  her  wish  thirsts  after  most,  • 
If  once  of  it  her  heart  can  boast,  5 

Straight  by  her  folly  't  is  forsaken. 

Thus,  whilst  I  still  pursue  in  vain, 
Methinks  I  turn  a  child  again, 

And  of  my  shadow  am  a-chasing. 

For  all  her  favors  are  to  me  10 

Like  apparitions  which  I  see. 

But  never  can  come  near  th'  embracing. 

Oft  had  I  wished  that  there  had  been 
Some  almanac  whereby  to  have  seen, 

When  love  with  her  had  been  in  season,  15 

But  I  perceive  there  is  no  art 
Can  find  the  epact  of  the  heart. 

That  loves  by  chance,  and  not  by  reason. 

Yet  will  I  not  for  this  despair. 

For  time  her  humor  may  prepare  20 

To  grace  him  who  is  now  neglected. 

And  what  unto  my  constancy 
She  now  denies,  one  day  may  be 

From  her  inconstancy  expected. 


RICHARD    CRASH  AW.  99 

Richard  Crash  aw,  Delights  of 
the  Muses,  1 646 ;  written  before 
1 64 1. 

WISHES    TO    HIS    SUPPOSED    MISTRESS. 

Whoe'er  she  be, 

That  not  impossible  she, 

That  shall  command  my  heart  and  me ; 

Where'er  she  lie. 

Locked  up  from  mortal  eye,  5 

In  shady  leaves  of  destiny: 

Till  that  ripe  birth 

Of  studied  fate  stand  forth 

And  teach  her  fair  steps  tread  our  earth  ; 

Till  that  divine  10 

Idea  take  a  shrine 

Of  crystal  flesh,  through  which  to  shine  : 

Meet  you  her,  my  wishes. 

Bespeak  her  to  my  blisses. 

And  be  ye  called,  my  absent  kisses.     .  15 

I  wish  her  beauty. 

That  owes  not  all  its  duty 

To  gaudy  tire,  or  glist'ring  shoe-tie. 

Something  more  than 

Taffeta  or  tissue  can,  20 

Or  rampant  feather,  or  rich  fan. 

More  than  the  spoil 

Of  shop,  or  silkworm's  toil, 

Or  a  bought  blush,  or  a  set  smile. 


100  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

A  face  that 's  best  25 

By  its  own  beauty  drest, 

And  can  alone  commend  the  rest. 

A  face  made  up 

Out  of  no  other  shop 

Than  what  Nature's  white  hand  sets  ope.  3° 

A  cheek  where  youth 

And  blood,  with  pen  of  truth, 

Write  what  the  reader  sweetly  ru'th. 

A  cheek  where  grows 

More  than  a  morning  rose  :  35 

Which  to  no  box  his  being  owes. 

Lips  where  all  day 

A  lover's  kiss  may  play, 

Yet  carry  nothing  thence  away. 

Looks  that  oppress  40 

Their  richest  tires,  but  dress 
Themselves  in  simple  nakedness. 

Eyes  that  displace 

The  neighbor  diamond,  and  out-face 

That  sunshine  by  their  own  sweet  grace.  45 

Tresses  that  wear 

Jewels,  but  to  declare 

How  much  themselves  more  precious  are. 

Whose  native  ray 

Can  tame  the  wanton  day  5° 

Of  gems,  that  in  their  bright  shades  play. 


RICHARD    CRASHAW.  101 

Each  ruby  there, 

Or  pearl  that  dares  appear, 

Be  its  own  blush,  be  its  own  tear. 

A  well-tamed  heart,  55 

For  whose  more  noble  smart 
Love  may  be  long  choosing  a  dart. 

Eyes  that  bestow 

Full  quivers  on  Love's  bow  ; 

Yet  pay  less  arrows  than  they  owe.  60 

Smiles  that  can  warm 

The  blood,  yet  teach  a  charm, 

That  chastity  shall  take  no  harm. 

Blushes  that  bin 

The  burnish  of  no  sin,  65 

Nor  flames  of  aught  too  hot  within. 

Joys  that  confess 

Virtue  their  mistress, 

And  have  no  other  head  to  dress. 

Fears,  fond  and  flight  7° 

As  the  coy  bride's,  when  night 
First  doe^s  the  longing  lover  right. 

Tears,  quickly  fled. 

And  vain,  as  those  are  shed 

For  a  dying  maidenhead.  75 

Days  that  need  borrow 

No  part  of  their  good  morrow, 

From  a  fore-spent  night  of  sorrow. 


102  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Days  that  in  spite 

Of  darkness,  by  the  light  80 

Of  a  clear  mind  are  day  all  night. 

Nights,  sweet  as  they. 

Made  short  by  lovers'  play, 

Yet  long  by  th'  absence  of  the  day. 

Life  that  dares  send  85 

A  challenge  to  his  end. 

And  when  it  comes,  say,  'Welcome,  friend.' 

Sydneian  showers 

Of  sweet  discourse,  whose  powers 

Can  crown  old  Winter's  head  with  flowers.  90 

Soft  silken  hours. 

Open  suns,  shady  bowers, 

'Bove  all,  nothing  within  that  lowers. 

Whate'er  delight 

Can  make  Day's  forehead  bright,  95 

Or  give  down  to  the  wings  of  Night. 

In  her  whole  frame 
Have  Nature  all  the  name. 
Art  and  ornament  the  shame. 

Her  flattery,  100 

Picture  and  poesy: 

Her  counsel  her  own  virtue  be. 

I  wish  her  store 

Of  worth  may  leave  her  poor 

Of  wishes;  and  I  wish  —  no  more.  105 


RICHARD   BROME.  103 

Now,  if  Time  knows 

That  her,  whose  radiant  brows 

Weave  them  a  garland  of  my  vows ; 

Her  whose  just  bays 

My  future  hopes  can  raise,  ^1° 

A  trophy  to  her  present  praise  ; 

Her  that  dares  be 

What  these  Unes  wish  to  see : 

I  seek  no  further ;  it  is  she. 

'Tis  she,  and  here  "5 

Lo  !   I  unclothe  and  clear 
My  wishes'  cloudy  character. 

May  she  enjoy  it. 

Whose  merit  dare  apply  it, 

But  modesty  dares  still  deny  it.  120 

Such  worth  as  this  is, 
Shall  fix  my  flying  wishes, 
And  determine  them  to  kisses. 

Let  her  full  glory, 

My  fancies,  fly  before  ye :  ^25 

Be  ye  my  fictions,  but  her  story. 


Richard  Brome,  The  Jovial  Crew, 
1652 ;  acted  1641. 

THE    MERRY    BEGGARS. 

Come,  come  ;  away !  the  spring, 
By  every  bird  that  can  but  sing, 
Or  chirp  a  note,  doth  now  invite 
Us  forth  to  taste  of  his  delight, 


104  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

In  field,  in  grove,  on  hill,  in  dale ;  5 

But  above  all  the  nightingale, 

Who  in  her  sweetness  strives  t'  outdo 

The  loudness  of  the  hoarse  cuckoo. 

'  Cuckoo,'  cries  he  ;  '  jug,  jug,  jug,'  sings  she  ; 

From  bush  to  bush,  from  tree  to  tree  :  lo 

Why  in  one  place  then  tarry  we  ? 

Come  away  !  why  do  we  stay  ? 

We  have  no  debt  or  rent  to  pay ; 

No  bargains  or  accounts  to  make, 

Nor  land  or  lease  to  let  or  take  :  15 

Or  if  we  had,  should  that  remore  us 

When  all  the  world  's  our  own  before  us, 

And  where  we  pass  and  make  resort, 

It  is  our  kingdom  and  our  court. 

'  Cuckoo,'  cries  he  ;  '  jug,  jug,  jug,'  sings  she  20 

From  bush  to  bush,  from  tree  to  tree  : 

Why  in  one  place  then  tarry  we  ? 


Broad-sheet,  1641 ;  author  unknown. 

LORD    STRAFFORD'S    MEDITATIONS    IN 
THE   TOWER. 

Go  empty  joys. 
With  all  your  noise, 
And  leave  me  here  alone, 
In  sad,  sweet  silence  to  bemoan 

The  fickle  worldly  height 
Whose  danger  none  can  see  aright. 
Whilst  your  false  splendors  dim  the  sight. 


ANONYMOUS.  105 

Go,  and  ensnare 
With  your  trim  ware 
Some  other  worldly  wight,  lo 

And  cheat  him  with  your  flattering  light ; 

Rain  on  his  head  a  shower 
Of  honor,  greatness,  wealth,  and  power ; 
Then  snatch  it  from  him  in  an  hour. 

Fill  his  big  mind  15 

With  gallant  wind 
Of  insolent  applause  ; 
Let  him  not  fear  the  curbing  laws, 
Nor  king,  nor  people's  frown  ; 
But  dream  of  something  like  a  crown,  20 

Then,  climbing  upwards,  tumble  down. 

Let  him  appear 
In  his  bright  sphere 
Like  Cynthia  in  her  pride. 
With  starlike  troops  on  every  side  ;  25 

For  number  and  clear  light 
Such  as  may  soon  o'erwhelm  quite. 
And  blind  them  both  in  one  dead  night. 

Welcome,  sad  night, 

Grief's  sole  delight,  3° 

Thy  mourning  best  agrees 
With  honor's  funeral  obsequies. 

In  Thetis'  lap  he  lies. 
Mantled  with  soft  securities, 
Whose  too  much  sunlight  dims  his  eyes,  35 

Was  he  too  bold 
Who  needs  would  hold 


106  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

With  curbing  reins  the  day, 
And  make  Sol's  fiery  steeds  obey? 

Therefore  as  rash  was  I,  40 

Who  with  Ambition's  wings  did  fly 
In  Charles's  wain  too  loftily. 

I  fall !   I  fall ! 
Whom  shall  I  call  ? 
Alas,  shall  I  be  heard  45 

Who  now  am  neither  loved  nor  feared  ? 
You,  who  have  vowed  the  ground 
To  kiss  where  my  blest  steps  were  found, 
Come,  catch  me  at  my  last  rebound. 

How  each  admires  5° 

Heaven's  twinkling  fires 
Whilst  from  their  glorious  seat 
Their  influence  gives  light  and  heat ; 

But  O  how  few  there  are, 
Though  danger  from  the  act  be  far,  55 

Will  run  to  catch  a  falling  star ! 

O  were 't  our  fate 
To  imitate 
Those  lights  whose  pallidness 
Argues  no  guiltiness!  60 

Their  course  is  one  way  bent ; 
Which  is  the  cause  there  's  no  dissent 
In  Heaven's  High  Court  of  Parliament. 


SIR  JOHN  SUCKLING.  107 

Sir  John  Suckling,  Fragnie7tta 
Aurea,  1646;  written  between 
1632  and  1 64 1. 

SONNET. 

Dost  see  how  unregarded  now 
That  piece  of  beauty  passes  ? 
There  was  a  time  when  I  did  vow 
To  that  alone ; 
But  mark  the  fate  of  faces  ;  5 

The  red  and  white  works  now  no  more  on  me, 
Than  if  it  could  not  charm,  or  I  not  see. 

And  yet  the  face  continues  good, 

And  I  have  still  desires, 
And  still  the  self-same  flesh  and  blood,  10 

As  apt  to  melt. 
And  suffer  from  those  fires  ; 
O,  some  kind  power  unriddle  where  it  lies  : 
Whether  my  heart  be  faulty  or  her  eyes  ? 

She  every  day  her  man  doth  kill,  15 

And  I  as  often  die ; 
Neither  her  power  then  or  my  will 
Can  questioned  be. 
What  is  the  mystery .-' 
Sure  beauty's  empire,  like  to  greater  states,  20 

Have  certain  periods  set,  and  hidden  fates. 

SONG. 

I  PRITHEE  spare  me,  gentle  boy, 
Press  me  no  more  for  that  slight  toy, 
That  foolish  trifle  of  an  heart ; 
I  swear  it  will  not  do  its  part, 
Though  thou  dost  thine,  employ'st  thy  power  and  art.      5 


108  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

For  through  long  custom  it  has  known 
The  little  secrets,  and  is  grown 
Sullen  and  wise,  will  have  its  will, 
And,  like  old  hawks,  pursues  that  still 
That  makes  least  sport,  flies  only  where  't  can  kill.      lo 

Some  youth  that  has  not  made  his  story. 
Will  think,  perchance,  the  pain  's  the  glory; 
And  mannerly  sit  out  love's  feast ; 
1  shall  be  carving  of  the  best. 
Rudely  call  for  the  last  course  'fore  the  rest.  15 

And,  O,  when  once  that  course  is  past. 
How  short  a  time  the  feast  doth  last ! 
Men  rise  away,  and  scarce  say  grace, 
Or  civilly  once  thank  the  face 
That  did  invite  ;  but  seek  another  place.  20 

THE   SIEGE. 

'Tis  now  since  I  sat  down  before 

That  foolish  fort,  a  heart, 
(Time  strangely  spent)  a  year  or  more, 

And  still  I  did  my  part : 

Made  my  approaches,  from  her  hand  5 

Unto  her  lip  did  rise, 
And  did  already  understand 

The  language  of  her  eyes. 

Proceeded  on  with  no  less  art 

(My  tongue  was  engineer)  10 

I  thought  to  undermine  the  heart 

By  whispering  in  the  ear. 


SIJ?  JOHN  SUCKLING.  109 

When  this  did  nothing,  I  brought  down 

Great  cannon-oaths,  and  shot 
A  thousand  thousand  to  the  town,  15 

And  still  it  yielded  not. 

I  then  resolved  to  starve  the  place 

By  cutting  off  all  kisses, 
Praying,  and  gazing  on  her  face, 

And  all  such  little  blisses.  20 

To  draw  her  out,  and  from  her  strength, 

I  drew  all  batteries  in  : 
And  brought  myself  to  lie,  at  length, 

As  if  no  siege  had  been. 

When  I  had  done  what  man  could  do,  25 

And  thought  the  place  mine  own, 
The  enemy  lay  quiet  too. 

And  smiled  at  all  was  done. 

I  sent  to  know  from  whence  and  where 

These  hopes  and  this  relief.  30 

A  spy  informed.  Honor  was  there, 
And  did  command  in  chief. 

'March,  march,'  quoth  I,  'the  word  straight  give, 

Let 's  lose  no  time,  but  leave  her ; 
That  giant  upon  air  will  live,  35 

And  hold  it  out  for  ever. 

To  such  a  place  our  camp  remove 

As  will  no  siege  abide ; 
I  hate  a  fool  that  starves  her  love, 

Only  to  feed  her  pride.'  4° 


110  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS, 

SONG. 

Honest  lover  whatsoever, 

If  in  all  thy  love  there  ever 

Was  one  wav'ring  thought,  if  thy  flame 

Were  not  still  even,  still  the  same  : 

Know  this,  S 

Thou  lov'st  amiss. 

And,  to  love  true. 
Thou  must  begin  again,  and  love  anew. 

If  when  she  appears  i'  th'  room. 
Thou  dost  not  quake,  and  art  struck  dumb,  lo 

And  in  striving  this  to  cover. 
Dost  not  speak  thy  words  twice  over : 
Know  this, 

Thou  lov'st  amiss. 

And  to  love  true,  15 

Thou  must  begin  again,  and  love  anew. 

If  fondly  thou  dost  not  mistake, 
And  all  defects  for  graces  take, 
Persuad'st  thyself  that  jests  are  broken 
When  she  hath  little  or  nothing  spoken  :  20 

Know  this. 

Thou  lov'st  amiss. 

And  to  love  true. 
Thou  must  begin  again,  and  love  anew. 

If  when  thou  appear'st  to  be  within,  25 

And  lett'st  not  men  ask  and  ask  again ; 
And  when  thou  answerest,  if  it  be 
To  what  was  asked  thee,  properly : 
Know  this, 
Thou  lov'st  amiss,  3° 


S/A'  JOHN  SUCKLING.  Ill 

And  to  love  true, 
Thou  must  begin  again,  and  love  anew. 

If  when  thy  stomach  calls  to  eat, 
Thou  cutt'st  not  fingers  'stead  of  meat, 
And  with  much  gazing  on  her  face  35 

Dost  not  rise  hungry  from  the  place : 
Know  this. 

Thou  lov'st  amiss, 

And  to  love  true, 
Thou  must  begin  again,  and  love  anew.  4° 

If  by  this  thou  dost  discover 
That  thou  art  no  perfect  lover, 
And  desiring  to  love  true, 
Thou  dost  begin  to  love  anew : 

Know  this,  45 

Thou  lov'st  amiss, 

And  to  love  true, 
Thou  must  begin  again,  and  love  anew. 

Sir  John  Suckling,  Last  Re- 
mains^ 1659;  written  before 
1642. 

CONSTANCY. 

Out  upon  it,  I  have  loved 

Three  whole  days  together ; 
And  am  like  to  love  three  more. 

If  it  prove  fair  weather. 

Time  shall  moult  away  his  wings,  5 

Ere  he  shall  discover 
In  the  whole  wide  world  again 

Such  a  constant  lover. 


112  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

But  the  spite  on  't  is,  no  praise 

Is  due  at  all  to  me:  lo 

Love  with  me  had  made  no  stays, 

Had  it  any  been  but  she. 

Had  it  any  been  but  she, 

And  that  very  face, 
There  had  been  at  least  ere  this  15 

A  dozen  dozen  in  her  place. 

SONG. 

I  PRITHEE  send  me  back  my  heart, 

Since  I  cannot  have  thine ; 
For  if  from  yours  you  will  not  part, 

Why  then  shouldst  thou  have  mine  t 

Yet,  now  I  think  on  't,  let  it  lie ;  5 

To  find  it  were  in  vain. 
For  th'  hast  a  thief  in  either  eye 

Would  steal  it  back  again. 

Why  should  two  hearts  in  one  breast  lie. 

And  yet  not  lodge  together  .^  ,0 

O  love,  where  is  thy  sympathy, 
If  thus  our  breasts  thou  sever  ? 

But  love  is  such  a  mystery, 

I  cannot  find  it  out : 
For  when  I  think  I  'm  best  resolv'd,  15 

I  then  am  most  in  doubt. 

Then  farewell  care,  and  farewell  woe  ! 

I  will  no  longer  pine  ; 
For  I  '11  believe  I  have  her  heart 

As  much  as  she  hath  mine.  20 


JOHN  MILTON.  113 

John  Milton,  Poems,  English  and 
Latin,  1645;  written  1642. 

SONNET. 

WHEN    THE    ASSAULT    WAS    INTENDED    TO    THE    CITY. 

Captain  or  colonel,  or  knight  in  arms, 

Whose  chance  on  these  defenceless  doors  may  seize, 

If  deed  of  honor  did  thee  ever  please, 

Guard  them,  and  him  within  protect  from  harms. 

He  can  requite  thee,  for  he  knows  the  charms  5 

That  call  fame  on  such  gentle  acts  as  these, 

And  he  can  spread  thy  name  o'er  lands  and  seas, 

Whatever  clime  the  sun's  bright  circle  warms. 

Lift  not  thy  spear  against  the  Muses'  bower : 

The  great  Emathian  conqueror  bid  spare  10 

The  house  of  Pindarus,  when  temple  and  tower 

Went  to  the  ground  ;  and  the  repeated  air 

Of  sad  Electra's  poet  had  the  power 

To  save  the  Athenian  walls  from  ruin  bare. 


Richard  Crash  aw,  Steps  to  the 
Temple,  1646;  written  before 
1643. 

A   HYMN    OF   THE    NATIVITY, 

SUNG    BY    THE    SHEPHERDS. 

Chorus. 

Come,  we  shepherds  whose  blest  sight 
Hath  met  Love's  noon  in  Nature's  night, 
Come,  lift  we  up  our  loftier  song 
And  wake  the  sun  that  lies  too  long. 


114  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

To  all  our  world  of  well-stol'n  joy  5 

He  slept,  and  dreamt  of  no  such  thing, 

While  we  found  out  heaven's  fairer  eye, 
And  kissed  the  cradle  of  our  King ; 

Tell  him  he  rises  now  too  late 

To  show  us  aught  worth  looking  at.  lo 

Tell  him  we  now  can  show  him  more 
Than  he  e'er  showed  to  mortal  sight. 

Than  he  himself  e'er  saw  before, 

Which  to  be  seen  needs  not  his  light : 

Tell  him,  Tityrus,  where  th'  hast  been,  15 

Tell  him,  Thyrsis,  what  th'  hast  seen. 


Tityrtis. 

Gloomy  night  embraced  the  place 

Where  the  noble  infant  lay  : 
The  babe  looked  up,  and  showed  his  face; 

In  spite  of  darkness  it  was  day. 
It  was  thy  day,  sweet,  and  did  rise. 
Not  from  the  east  but  from  thine  eyes. 

Chorus.     It  was  thy  day,  sweet,  etc. 


Thyrsis. 

Winter  chid  aloud,  and  sent 

The  angry  North  to  wage  his  wars  :  25 

The  North  forgot  his  fierce  intent. 

And  left  perfumes  instead  of  scars. 
By  those  sweet  eyes'  persuasive  powers. 
Where  he  meant  frosts  he  scattered  flowers. 

Chorus.     By  those  sweet  eyes,  etc.  30 


RICHARD    CRASH  AW.  115 

Both. 

We  saw  thee  in  thy  balmy  nest, 

Young  dawn  of  our  eternal  day; 
We  saw  thine  eyes  break  from  the  east, 

And  chase  the  trembling  shades  away : 
We  saw  thee,  and  we  blest  the  sight,  35 

We  saw  thee  by  thine  own  sweet  light. 

Tityrus. 
Poor  world,  said  I,  what  wilt  thou  do 

To  entertain  this  starry  stranger  ? 
Is  this  the  best  thou  canst  bestow  — 

A  cold  and  not  too  cleanly  manger  ?  4o 

Contend,  the  powers  of  heaven  and  earth. 
To  fit  a  bed  for  this  huge  birth. 

Chorus.     Contend,  the  powers,  etc. 
Thyrsis. 
Proud  world,  said  I,  cease  your  contest, 

And  let  the  mighty  babe  alone,  45 

The  phcenix  builds  the  phoenix'  nest, 

Love's  architecture  is  his  own. 
The  babe,  whose  birth  embraves  this  morn. 
Made  his  own  bed  ere  he  was  born. 

Chorus.     The  babe,  whose  birth,  etc.  5° 

Tityrus. 
I  saw  the  curled  drops,  soft  and  slow. 

Come  hovering  o'er  the  place's  head, 
Offering  their  whitest  sheets  of  snow, 

To  furnish  the  fair  infant's  bed. 
Forbear,  said  I,  be  not  too  bold ;  55 

Your  fleece  is  white,  but  't  is  too  cold. 

Chorus.     Forbear,  said  I,  etc. 


116  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Thyrsis. 

I  saw  the  obsequious  seraphim 

Their  rosy  fleece  of  fire  bestow, 
For  well  they  now  can  spare  their  wing,  60 

Since  heaven  itself  lies  here  below. 
Well  done,  said  I ;  but  are  you  sure 
Your  down,  so  warm,  will  pass  for  pure  ? 

Chorus.     Well  done,  said  I,  etc. 

Both. 

No,  no,  your  King 's  not  yet  to  seek  65 

Where  to  repose  his  royal  head ; 
See,  see  how  soon  his  new-bloomed  cheek 

'Twixt  mother's  breasts  is  gone  to  bed. 
Sweet  choice,  said  we,  no  way  but  so 
Not  to  lie  cold,  yet  sleep  in  snow  !  7° 

Chorus.     Sweet  choice,  said  we,  etc. 

Full  Chorus. 

Welcome  all  wonders  in  our  sight ! 

Eternity  shut  in  a  span  ! 
Summer  in  winter  !  day  in  night  ! 

Heaven  in  earth  !  and  God  in  man  !  75 

Great  little  one,  whose  all-embracing  birth 
Lifts  earth  to  heaven,  stoops  heaven  to  earth  ! 

Welcome,  though  nor  to  gold  nor  silk, 
To  more  than  Caesar's  birthright  is  : 

Two  sister  seas  of  virgin's  milk,  80 

With  many  a  rarely-temper'd  kiss. 

That  breathes  at  once  both  maid  and  mother. 

Warms  in  the  one,  cools  in  the  other. 


RICHARD    CRASH  AW.  117 

She  sings  thy  tears  asleep,  and  dips 

Her  kisses  in  thy  weeping  eye ;  85 

She  spreads  the  red  leaves  of  thy  lips, 

That  in  their  buds  yet  blushing  lie. 
She  'gainst  those  mother  diamonds  tries 
The  points  of  her  young  eagle's  eyes. 

Welcome  —  though  not  to  those  gay  flies,  90 

Gilded  i'  th'  beams  of  earthly  kings, 

Slippery  souls  in  smiling  eyes  — 

But  to  poor  shepherds'  homespun  things. 

Whose  wealth  's  their  flocks,  whose  wit  to  be 

Well  read  in  their  simplicity.  95 

Yet  when  young  April's  husband  showers 

Shall  bless  the  fruitful  Maia's  bed, 
We  '11  bring  the  first-born  of  her  flowers. 

To  kiss  thy  feet,  and  crown  thy  head. 
To  thee,  dread  Lamb  !  whose  love  must  keep         100 
The  shepherds  while  they  feed  their  sheep. 

To  thee,  meek  Majesty,  soft  King 

Of  simple  graces  and  sweet  loves, 
Each  of  us  his  lamb  will  bring. 

Each  his  pair  of  silver  doves ;  105 

Till  burnt  at  last,  in  fire  of  thy  fair  eyes. 
Ourselves  become  our  own  best  sacrifice. 

ON  THE  ASSUMPTION  OF  THE  VIRGIN  MARY. 

Hark  !  she  is  called,  the  parting  hour  is  come  ; 
Take  thy  farewell,  poor  world.     Heaven  must  go  home. 
A  piece  of  heavenly  earth  ;  purer  and  brighter 
Than  the  chaste  stars,  whose  choice  lamps  come  to  light 
her. 


118  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Whilst  through  the  crystal  orbs,  clearer  than  they,  5 

She  climbs,  and  makes  a  far  more  milky  way. 
She  's  called  again  ;  hark  how  the  dear  immortal  dove 
Sighs  to  his  silver  mate,  '  Rise  up,  my  love, 
Rise  up,  my  fair,  my  spotless  one. 
The  winter  's  past,  the  rain  is  gone  ;  lo 

The  spring  is  come,  the  flowers  appear. 
No  sweets,  save  thou,  are  wanting  here. 
Come  away,  my  love, 
Come  away,  my  dove, 

Cast  off  delay;  15 

The  court  of  heaven  is  come 
To  wait  upon  thee  home  ; 

Come  away,  come  away  ! 
The  flowers  appear. 
Or  quickly  would,  wert  thou  once  here.  -o 

The  spring  is  come,  or  if  it  stay 
'T  is  to  keep  time  with  thy  delay. 
The  rain  is  gone,  except  so  much  as  we 
Detain  in  needful  tears  to  weep  the  want  of  thee. 

The  winter  's  past,  25 

Or  if  he  make  less  haste, 
His  answer  is,  '  Why,  she  does  so ; 
If  summer  come  not,  how  can  winter  go .-' 

Come  away,  come  away  ! 
The  shrill  winds  chide,  the  waters  weep  thy  stay,  30 

The  fountains  murmur,  and  each  loftiest  tree 
Bows  lowest  his  leafy  top  to  look  for  thee. 
Come  away,  my  love. 
Come  away,  my  dove. 

Cast  off  delay;  35 

The  court  of  heaven  is  come 
To  wait  upon  thee  home ; 
Come,  come  away.  ' 


RICHARD    CRASH  AW.  119 

She  's  called  again.      And  will  she  go  ? 

When  heaven  bids  come,  who  can  say  no  ?  4o 

Heaven  calls  her,  and  she  must  away, 

Heaven  will  not,  and  she  cannot  stay. 

Go  then ;  go,  glorious  on  the  golden  wings 

Of  the  bright  youth  of  heaven,  that  sings 

Under  so  sweet  a  burden.     Go,  45 

Since  thy  dread  son  will  have  it  so. 

And  while  thou  goest,  our  song  and  we 

Will,  as  we  may,  reach  after  thee. 

Hail,  holy  queen  of  humble  hearts ! 

We  in  thy  praise  will  have  our  parts.  5° 

And  though  thy  dearest  looks  must  now  give  light 
To  none  but  the  blest  heavens,  whose  bright 
Beholders,  lost  in  sweet  delight. 
Feed  for  ever  their  fair  sight 

With  those  divinest  eyes,  which  we  55 

And  our  dark  world  no  more  shall  see ; 
Though  our  poor  joys  are  parted  so, 
Yet  shall  our  Ups  never  let  go 
Thy  gracious  name,  but  to  the  last 
Our  loving  song  shall  hold  it  fast.  6o 

Thy  precious  name  shall  be 

Thyself  to  us,  and  we 
With  holy  care  will  keep  it  by  us. 
We  to  the  last 

Will  hold  it  fast,  65 

And  no  assumption  shall  deny  us. 

All  the  sweetest  showers 

Of  our  fairest  flowers 
Will  we  strow  upon  it. 

Though  our  sweets  cannot  make  7° 

It  sweeter,  they  can  take 

Themselves  new  sweetness  from  it. 


120  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Maria,  men  and  angels  sing, 
Maria,  mother  of  our  king. 

Live,  rosy  princess,  live,  and  may  the  bright  75 

Crown  of  a  most  incomparable  light 

Embrace  thy  radiant  brows  !     O  may  the  best 

Of  everlasting  joys  bathe  thy  white  breast. 

Live,  our  chaste  love,  the  holy  mirth 
Of  heaven  ;  the  humble  pride  of  earth.         80 
Live,  crown  of  women  ;  queen  of  men  ; 
Live,  mistress  of  our  song  ;  and  when 
Our  weak  desires  have  done  their  best, 
Sweet  angels  come,  and  sing  the  rest. 


Richard  Crashaw,  The  Delights 
of  the  Muses,  1 646 ;  written  be- 
fore 1644. 

LOVE'S    HOROSCOPE. 

Love,  brave  Virtue's  younger  brother. 
Erst  hath  made  my  heart  a  mother. 
She  consults  the  conscious  spheres, 
To  calculate  her  young  son's  years  ; 
She  asks  if  sad  or  saving  powers 
Gave  omen  to  his  infant  hours  ; 
She  asks  each  star  that  then  stood  by 
If  poor  Love  shall  live  or  die. 

Ah,  my  heart,  is  that  the  way? 

Are  these  the  beams  that  rule  the  day  ? 

Thou  knowst  a  face  in  whose  each  look 

Beauty  lays  ope  Love's  fortune-book, 

On  whose  fair  revolutions  wait 

The  obsequious  motions  of  man's  fate. 


RICHARD    CRASH  AW.  121 

Ah,  my  heart  !  her  eyes  and  she  15 

Have  taught  thee  new  astrology. 

Howe'er  Love's  native  hours  were  set, 

Whatever  starry  synod  met, 

'T  is  in  the  mercy  of  her  eye, 

If  poor  Love  shall  live  or  die.  20 

If  those  sharp  rays,  putting  on 

Points  of  death,  bid  Love  be  gone ; 

Though  the  heavens  in  council  sate 

To  crown  an  uncontrolled  fate, 

Though  their  best  aspects  twined  upon  25 

The  kindest  constellation. 

Cast  amorous  glances  on  his  birth, 

And  whispered  the  confederate  earth 

To  pave  his  paths  with  all  the  good 

That  warms  the  bed  of  youth  and  blood —  3° 

Love  has  no  plea  against  her  eye ; 

Beauty  frowns,  and  Love  must  die. 

But  if  her  milder  influence  move. 

And  gild  the  hopes  of  humble  Love  ;  — 

Though  heaven's  inauspicious  eye  35 

Lay  black  on  Love's  nativity; 

Though  every  diamond  in  Jove's  crown 

Fixed  his  forehead  to  a  frown  ;  — 

Her  eye  a  strong  appeal  can  give, 

Beauty  smiles,  and  Love  shall  live.  4° 

O,  if  Love  shall  live,  O  where 

But  in  her  eye,  or  in  her  ear, 

In  her  breast,  or  in  her  breath, 

Shall  I  hide  poor  Love  from  death  ? 

For  in  the  life  aught  else  can  give,  45 

Love  shall  die,  although  he  live. 


122  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Or,  if  Love  shall  die,  O,  where 

But  in  her  eye,  or  in  her  ear. 

In  her  breath,  or  in  her  breast, 

Shall  I  build  his  funeral  nest  ?  5° 

While  Love  shall  thus  entombed  lie 

Love  shall  live,  although  he  die. 


John  Milton,  Poems,  English  and 
Latin,  1645  >  written  1644. 

SONNET. 

TO    A    VIRTUOUS    YOUNG    LADY. 

Lady,  that  in  the  prime  of  earliest  youth 

Wisely  hast  shunned  the  broad  way  and  the  green, 

And  with  those  few  art  eminently  seen 

That  labor  up  the  hill  of  heavenly  truth. 

The  better  part,  with  Mary  and  with  Ruth, 

Chosen  thou  hast  ;  and  they  that  overween. 

And  at  thy  growing  virtues  fret  their  spleen, 

No  anger  find  in  thee,  but  pity  and  ruth. 

Thy  care  is  fixed,  and  zealously  attends 

To  fill  thy  odorous  lamp  with  deeds  of  light. 

And  hope  that  reaps  not  shame.     Therefore  be  sure 

Thou,  when  the  Bridegroom  with  his  feastful  friends 

Passes  to  bliss  at  the  mid-hour  of  night. 

Hast  gained  thy  entrance,  virgin  wise  and  pure. 


EDMUND   WALLER.  123 

Edmund  Waller,  Poems  upon 
Several  Occasions,  1645  ;  ^^^.te  of 
writing  uncertain. 

TO    PHYLLIS. 

Phyllis,  why  should  we  delay, 

Pleasures  shorter  than  the  day  ? 

Could  we  (which  we  never  can) 

Stretch  our  lives  beyond  their  span, 

Beauty  like  a  shadow  flies,  5 

And  our  youth  before  us  dies  ; 

Or,  would  youth  and  beauty  stay, 

Love  hath  wings,  and  will  away. 

Love  hath  swifter  wings  than  Time : 

Change  in  love  to  heaven  does  climb;  ^o 

Gods,  that  never  change  their  state, 

Vary  oft  their  love  and  hate, 

Phyllis,  to  this  truth  we  owe 
All  the  love  betwixt  us  two. 

Let  not  you  and  I  enquire  ^5 

What  has  been  our  past  desire; 
On  what  shepherds  you  have  smiled. 
Or  what  nymphs  I  have  beguiled; 
Leave  it  to  the  planets  too. 

What  we  shall  hereafter  do  :  20 

For  the  joys  we  now  may  prove. 
Take  advice  of  present  love. 

ON   A    GIRDLE. 

That  which  her  slender  waist  confined 
Shall  now  my  joyful  temples  bind  ; 
No  monarch  but  would  give  his  crown, 
His  arms  might  do  what  this  has  done. 


124  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

It  was  my  heaven's  extremest  sphere,  5 

The  pale  which  held  that  lovely  deer ; 
My  joy,  my  grief,  my  hope,  my  love, 
Did  all  within  this  circle  move. 

A  narrow  compass,  and  yet  there 

Dwelt  all  that 's  good  and  all  that 's  fair ;  lo 

Give  me  but  what  this  ribband  bound, 

Take  all  the  rest  the  sun  goes  round ! 

TO   FLAVIA. 

A    SONG. 

'T  IS  not  your  beauty  can  engage 

My  wary  heart : 
The  sun,  in  all  his  pride  and  rage, 

Has  not  that  art ; 
And  yet  he  shines  as  bright  as  you,  5 

If  brightness  could  our  souls  subdue. 

'T  is  not  the  pretty  things  you  say, 

Nor  those  you  write. 
Which  can  make  Thyrsis'  heart  your  prey ; 

For  that  delight,  lo 

The  graces  of  a  well-taught  mind, 
In  some  of  our  own  sex  we  find. 

No,  Flavia,  't  is  your  love  I  fear ; 

Love's  surest  darts. 
Those  which  so  seldom  fail  him,  are  iS 

Headed  with  hearts ; 
Their  very  shadows  make  us  yield ; 
Dissemble  well,  and  win  the  field. 


JAMES  SHIRLEY.  125 

ON    THE    ROSE. 

Go,  lovely  rose, 
Tell  her  that  wastes  her  time  and  me, 

That  now  she  knows, 
When  I  resemble  her  to  thee. 
How  sweet  and  fair  she  seems  to  be.  S 

Tell  her  that 's  young. 
And  shuns  to  have  her  graces  spied, 

That  had'st  thou  sprung 
In  deserts  where  no  men  abide, 
Thou  must  have  uncommended  died.  lo 

Small  is  the  worth 
Of  beauty  from  the  light  retired ; 

Bid  her  come  forth. 
Suffer  herself  to  be  desired, 
And  not  blush  so  to  be  admired.       )  15 

Then  die,  that  she 
The  common  fate  of  all  things  rare 

May  read  in  thee  : 
How  small  a  part  of  time  they  share, 
That  are  so  wondrous  sweet  and  fair. 


James  Shirley,  Poems,  1646. 

GOOD    MORROW. 

Good  morrow  unto  her  who  in  the  night 
Shoots  from  her  silver  brow  more  light 
Than  Cynthia,  upon  whose  state 
All  other  servile  stars  of  beauty  wait. 


126  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Good  morrow  unto  her  who  gives  the  day, 

Whose  eyes  preserve  a  clearer  ray 

Than  Phcebus,  when  in  Thetis'  streams 

He  hath  new  bathed  himself  and  washed  his  beams. 

The  day  and  night  are  only  thine,  and  we 
Were  lost  in  darkness  but  for  thee  ; 
For  thee  we  live,  all  hearts  are  thine. 
But  none  so  full  of  faith  and  flame  as  mine. 

FIE   ON    LOVE. 

Now  fie  on  love  !  it  ill  befits 
Or  man  or  woman  know  it: 
Love  was  not  meant  for  people  in  their  wits, 
And  they  that  fondly  show  it 
Betray  their  too  much  feathered  brains. 
And  shall  have  only  Bedlam  for  their  pains. 

To  love  is  to  distract  my  sleep. 
And  waking  to  wear  fetters  ; 
To  love  is  but  to  go  to  school  to  weep ; 
I  '11  leave  it  to  my  betters. 
If  single,  love  be  such  a  curse, 
To  marry  is  to  make  it  ten  times  worse. 


Henry  Vaughan,  Poems,  1646. 

TO  AMORET,  GONE  FROM  HOME. 

Fancy  and  I  last  evening  walked. 
And,  Amoret,  of  thee  we  talked. 
The  west  just  then  had  stol'n  the  sun. 
And  his  last  blushes  were  begun. 


ABRAHAM  COWLEY.  127 

We  sate,  and  marked  how  every  thing  5 

Did  mourn  his  absence  ;  how  the  spring 

That  smiled  and  curled  about  his  beams, 

Whilst  he  was  here,  now  checked  her  streams ; 

The  wanton  eddies  of  her  face 

Were  taught  less  noise  and  smoother  grace  ;  lo 

And  in  a  slow,  sad  channel  went, 

Whisp'ring  the  banks  their  discontent. 

The  careless  banks  of  flowers  that  spread 

Their  perfumed  bosoms  to  his  head, 

And  with  an  open,  free  embrace,  ^5 

Did  entertain  his  beamy  face. 

Like  absent  friends  point  to  the  west. 

And  on  that  weak  reflection  feast. 

If  creatures  then  that  have  no  sense, 

But  the  loose  tie  of  influence  —  20 

Though  fate  and  time  each  day  remove 

Those  things  that  element  their  love  — 

At  such  vast  distance  can  agree. 

Why,  Amoret,  why  should  not  we  .-• 


Abraham  Cowley,  The  Mistress, 
1647. 

THE    INCONSTANT. 

I  NEVER  yet  could  see  that  face 

Which  had  no  dart  for  me; 
From  fifteen  years,  to  fifty's  space. 
They  all  victorious  be. 
Love,  thou  'rt  a  devil,  if  I  may  call  thee  one; 
For  sure  in  me  thy  name  is  Legion. 


128  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Color  or  shape,  good  limbs  or  face, 

Goodness  or  wit,  in  all  I  find ; 
In  motion  or  in  speech  a  grace ; 

If  all  fail,  yet  'tis  womankind;  lo 

And  I  'm  so  weak,  the  pistol  need  not  be 
Double  or  treble  charged  to  murder  me. 

If  tall,  the  name  of  '  proper '  slays  ; 

If  fair,  she  's  pleasant  in  the  light ; 
If  low,  her  prettiness  does  please;  15 

If  black,  what  lover  loves  not  night  ? 
If  yellow-haired,  I  love  lest  it  should  be 
Th'  excuse  to  others  for  not  loving  me. 

The  fat,  like  plenty,  fills  my  heart ; 

The  lean,  with  love  makes  me  too  so;  20 

If  straight,  her  body  's  Cupid's  dart 
To  me  ;  if  crooked,  't  is  his  bow  : 
Nay,  age  itself  does  me  to  rage  incline. 
And  strength  to  women  gives,  as  well  as  wine. 

Just  half  as  large  as  Charity  25 

My  richly  landed  Love  's  become ; 
And,  judged  aright,  is  Constancy, 
Though  it  take  up  a  larger  room : 
Him,  who  loves  always  one,  why  should  they  call 
More  constant  than  the  man  loves  always  all  ?         3° 

Thus  with  unwearied  wings  I  flee 

Through  all  Love's  gardens  and  his  fields ; 
And,  like  the  wise,  industrious  bee. 
No  weed  but  honey  to  me  yields ! 
Honey  still  spent  this  dil'gence  still  supplies,  35 

Though  I  return  not  home  with  laden  thighs. 


THOMAS  STANLEY.  129 

My  soul  at  first  indeed  did  prove 

Of  pretty  strength  against  a  dart, 
Till  I  this  habit  got  of  love ; 

But  my  consumed  and  wasted  heart,  4° 

Once  burnt  to  tinder  with  a  strong  desire, 
Since  that,  by  every  spark  is  set  on  fire. 


Thomas    Stanley,    Poems    and 
Trattslations,  1647. 

THE    TOMB. 

When,  cruel  fair  one,  I  am  slain 

By  thy  disdain. 
And,  as  a  trophy  of  thy  scorn. 

To  some  old  tomb  am  borne, 
Thy  fetters  must  their  power  bequeath  5 

To  those  of  death  ; 
Nor  can  thy  flame  immortal  burn. 
Like  monumental  fires  within  an  urn  ; 
Thus  freed  from  thy  proud  empire,  I  shall  prove 
There  is  more  liberty  in  death  than  love.  10 

And  when  forsaken  lovers  come 

To  see  my  tomb. 
Take  heed  thou  mix  not  with  the  crowd 

And,  as  a  victor,  proud 
To  view  the  spoils  thy  beauty  made  ^5 

Press  near  my  shade, 
Lest  thy  too  cruel  breath  or  name 
Should  fan  my  ashes  back  into  a  flame. 
And  thou,  devoured  by  this  revengeful  fire, 
His  sacrifice,  who  died  as  thine,  expire.  20 


130  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

But  if  cold  earth  or  marble  must 

Conceal  my  dust, 
Whilst  hid  in  some  dark  ruins,  I 

Dumb  and  forgotten  lie, 
The  pride  of  all  thy  victory  25 

Will  sleep  with  me  ; 
And  they  who  should  attest  thy  glory. 
Will,  or  forget,  or  not  believe  this  story, 
Then  to  increase  thy  triumph,  let  me  rest. 
Since  by  thine  eye  slain,  buried  in  thy  breast.  30 

THE    RELAPSE. 

O  TURN  away  those  cruel  eyes, 

The  stars  of  my  undoing; 
Or  death  in  such  a  bright  disguise 

May  tempt  a  second  wooing. 

Punish  their  blind  and  impious  pride  5 

Who  dare  contemn  thy  glory ; 
It  was  my  fall  that  deified 

Thy  name  and  sealed  thy  story. 

Yet  no  new  suffering  can  prepare 

A  higher  praise  to  crown  thee ;  10 

Though  my  first  death  proclaim  thee  fair, 

My  second  will  unthrone  thee. 

Lovers  will  doubt  thou  can'st  entice 

No  other  for  thy  fuel, 
And  if  thou  burn  one  victim  twice,  15 

Both  think  thee  poor  and  cruel. 


RICHARD  LOVELACE.  131 

CELIA    SINGING. 

Roses  in  breathing  forth  their  scent, 

Or  stars  their  borrowed  ornament, 

Nymphs  in  watery  sphere  that  move. 

Or  angels  in  their  orbs  above, 

The  winged  chariot  of  the  light,  S 

Or  the  slow,  silent  wheels  of  night. 

The  shade  which  from  the  swifter  sun 

Doth  in  a  circular  motion  run, 
Or  souls  that  their  eternal  rest  do  keep, 
Make  far  more  noise  than  Celia's  breath  in  sleep.        lo 

But  if  the  angel,  which  inspires 

This  subtle  flame  with  active  fires, 

Should  mould  his  breath  to  words,  and  those 

Into  a  harmony  dispose, 

The  music  of  this  heavenly  sphere  15 

Would  steal  each  soul  out  at  the  ear. 

And  into  plants  and  stones  infuse 

A  life  that  cherubim  would  choose, 
And  with  new  powers  invert  the  laws  of  fate. 
Kill  those  that  live,  and  dead  things  animate.  20 


Richard  Lovelace,  Lucasta,  Ep- 
odes,  Odes,  Sonnets,  and  Songs, 
1649  ;  written  before  1648. 

TO    LUCASTA,    GOING    BEYOND    THE    SEAS. 

If  to  be  absent  were  to  be 
Away  from  thee ; 
Or  that  when  I  am  gone. 
You  or  I  were  alone ; 


132  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Then  my  Lucasta  might  I  crave  5 

Pity  from  blust'ring  wind  or  swallowing  wave. 

But  I  '11  not  sigh  one  blast  or  gale 
To  swell  my  sail, 
Or  pay  a  tear  to  'suage 

The  foaming  blow-god's  rage  ;  lo 

For  whether  he  will  let  me  pass 
Or  no,  I  'm  still  as  happy  as  I  was. 

Though  seas  and  land  betwixt  us  both, 
Our  faith  and  troth, 
Like  separated  souls,  15 

All  time  and  space  controls: 
Above  the  highest  sphere  we  meet, 
Unseen,  unknown,  and  greet  as  angels  greet. 

So  then  we  do  anticipate 

Our  after-fate,  20 

And  are  alive  i'  th'  skies, 
If  thus  our  lips  and  eyes 
Can  speak  like  spirits  unconfined 
In  heaven,  their  earthly  bodies  left  behind. 

SONG. 

TO    LUCASTA,    ON    GOING    TO    THE    WARS. 

Tell  me  not,  sweet,  I  am  unkind, 

That  from  the  nunnery 
Of  thy  chaste  breast  and  quiet  mind 

To  war  and  arms  I  fly. 

True,  a  new  mistress  now  I  chase,  5 

The  first  foe  in  the  field; 
And  with  a  stronger  faith  embrace 

A  sword,  a  horse,  a  shield. 


RICHARD   LOVELACE.  133 

Yet  this  inconstancy  is  such 

As  you  too  shall  adore  :  lo 

I  could  not  love  thee,  dear,  so  much 

Loved  I  not  honor  more. 

SONG. 

Amarantha,  sweet  and  fair, 

Ah  braid  no  more  that  shining  hair ; 

As  my  curious  hand  or  eye, 

Hovering  round  thee,  let  it  fly: 

Let  it  fly  as  unconfined  5 

As  its  ravisher  the  wind, 

Who  has  left  his  darling  east 

To  wanton  o'er  this  spicy  nest. 

Every  tress  must  be  confessed 

But  neatly  tangled  at  the  best,  lo 

Like  a  clew  of  golden  thread. 

Most  excellently  ravelled, 

Do  not  then  wind  up  that  light 

In  ribands,  and  o'ercloud  the  night; 

Like  the  sun  in  's  early  ray,  15 

But  shake  your  head  and  scatter  day. 

THE    SCRUTINY. 

Why  should'st  thou  swear  I  am  forsworn. 
Since  thine  I  vowed  to  be  ? 

Lady,  it  is  already  morn. 

And  't  was  last  night  I  swore  to  thee 

That  fond  impossibility.  5 

Have  I  not  loved  thee  much  and  long, 
A  tedious  twelve  hours'  space .'' 


134  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

I  should  all  other  beauties  wrong, 
And  rob  thee  of  a  new  embrace, 
Should  I  still  dote  upon  thy  face.  lo 

Not  but  all  joy  in  thy  brown  hair 
By  others  may  be  found ; 

But  I  must  search  the  black  and  fair, 
Like  skilful  min'ralists  that  sound 
For  treasure  in  un-plowed-up  ground.  15 

Then  if,  when  I  have  loved  my  round, 

Thou  prov'st  the  pleasant  she, 
With  spoils  of  meaner  beauties  crowned, 

I  laden  will  return  to  thee. 

E'en  sated  with  variety.  20 

TO    ALTHEA    FROM    PRISON. 

When  Love  with  unconfined  wings, 

Hovers  within  my  gates, 
And  my  divine  Althea  brings 

To  whisper  at  the  grates  ; 
When  I  lie  tangled  in  her  hair  5 

And  fettered  to  her  eye. 
The  gods  that  wanton  in  the  air 

Know  no  such  liberty. 

When  flowing  cups  run  swiftly  round 

With  no  allaying  Thames,  10 

Our  careless  heads  with  roses  crowned, 

Our  hearts  with  loyal  flames ; 
When  thirsty  grief  in  wine  we  steep. 

When  healths  and  draughts  go  free, 
Fishes  that  tipple  in  the  deep  15 

Know  no  such  liberty. 


THOMAS  FOR  BE.  135 

When,  like  committed  linnets,  I 

With  shriller  throat  shall  sing 
The  sweetness,  mercy,  majesty, 

And  glories  of  my  king;  20 

When  I  shall  voice  aloud  how  good 

He  is,  how  great  should  be. 
Enlarged  winds,  that  curl  the  flood. 

Know  no  such  liberty. 

Stone  walls  do  not  a  prison  make,  25 

Nor  iron  bars  a  cage ; 
Minds  innocent  and  quiet  take 

That  for  an  hermitage: 
If  I  have  freedom  in  my  love. 

And  in  my  soul  am  free,  3° 

Angels  alone,  that  soar  above, 

Enjoy  such  liberty. 


Thomas  Forde,  Love's  Labyrinth, 
1660;  written  before  1648. 

THE  BUSY  MAN  IS  FREE. 

Fond  Love,  no  more 
Will  I  adore 

Thy  feigned  deity ; 
Go  throw  thy  darts 
At  simple  hearts. 

And  prove  thy  victory. 

Whilst  I  do  keep 
My  harmless  sheep. 

Love  hath  no  power  on  me  : 


136  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

'T  is  idle  souls 
Which  he  controls  ; 

The  busy  man  is  free. 


Robert     Herrick,    Hesperides, 
1648  ;  written  between  1640  and 


TO    PERILLA. 

Ah,  my  Perilla  !  dost  thou  grieve  to  see 

Me,  day  by  day,  to  steal  away  from  thee  ? 

Age  calls  me  hence,  and  my  grey  hairs  bid  come 

And  haste  away  to  mine  eternal  home ; 

'T  will  not  be  long,  Perilla,  after  this,  5 

That  I  must  give  thee  the  supremest  kiss. 

Dead  when  I  am,  first  cast  in  salt,  and  bring 

Part  of  the  cream  from  that  religious  spring, 

With  which,  Perilla,  wash  my  hands  and  feet ; 

That  done,  then  wind  me  in  that  very  sheet  10 

Which  wrapped  thy  smooth  limbs  when  thou  didst  implore 

The  gods'  protection  but  the  night  before ; 

Follow  me  weeping  to  my  turf,  and  there 

Let  fall  a  primrose,  and  with  it  a  tear: 

Then  lastly,  let  some  weekly  strewings  be  15 

Devoted  to  the  memory  of  me  ; 

Then  shall  my  ghost  not  walk  about,  but  keep 

Still  in  the  cool  and  silent  shades  of  sleep. 


ROBERT  HER  RICK.  137 


UPON   THE    LOSS    OF    HIS    MISTRESSES. 


I  HAVE  lost,  and  lately,  these 
Many  dainty  mistresses ; 
Stately  Julia,  prime  of  all : 
Sappho  next,  a  principal ; 
Smooth  Anthea,  for  a  skin 
White  and  heaven-like  crystalline  ; 
Sweet  Electra,  and  the  choice 
Myrrha,  for  the  lute  and  voice. 
Next,  Corinna,  for  her  wit, 
And  the  graceful  use  of  it; 
With  Perilla  :  all  are  gone, 
Only  Herrick  's  left  alone. 
For  to  number  sorrow  by 
Their  departures  hence,  and  die. 


HIS    POETRY    HIS    PILLAR. 

Only  a  little  more 

I  have  to  write. 

Then  I  '11  give  o'er, 
And  bid  the  world  good-night. 

'Tis  but  a  flying  minute 

That  I  must  stay. 

Or  linger  in  it ; 
And  then  I  must  away, 

O  Time,  that  cut'st  down  all, 
And  scarce  leav'st  here 
Memorial 

Of  any  men  that  were  ! 


138  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

How  many  lie  forgot 

In  vaults  beneath, 

And  piecemeal  rot  iS 

Without  a  fame  in  death ! 

Behold  this  living  stone 

I  rear  for  me, 

Ne'er  to  be  thrown 
Down,  envious  Time,  by  thee.  20 

Pillars  let  some  set  up, 

If  so  they  please, 

Here  is  my  hope, 
And  my  pyramides. 


Jasper    Mayne,     The    Amorous 
War,  1648. 

TIME  IS   THE  FEATHERED   THING. 

Time  is  the  feathered  thing, 
And,  whilst  I  praise 
The  sparklings  of  thy  looks  and  call  them  rays. 
Takes  wing. 
Leaving  behind  him  as  he  flies 
An  unperceived  dimness  in  thine  eyes. 
His  minutes  whilst  th'  are  told 

Do  make  us  old  ; 
And  every  sand  of  his  fleet  glass. 
Increasing  age  as  it  doth  pass, 
Insensibly  sows  wrinkles  there 
Where  flowers  and  roses  do  appear. 
Whilst  we  do  speak,  our  fire 
Doth  into  ice  expire ; 


JASPER  MAYNE.  139 

Flames  turn  to  frost,  if 

And  ere  we  can 
Know  how  our  crow  turns  swan, 
Or  how  a  silver  snow 
Springs  there  where  jet  did  grow, 
Our  fading  spring  is  in  dull  winter  lost.  20 

Since  then  the  night  hath  hurled 
Darkness,  love's  shade, 
Over  its  enemy  the  day,  and  made 
The  world 
Just  such  a  blind  and  shapeless  thing  25 

As  't  was  before  light  did  from  darkness  spring, 
Let  us  employ  its  treasure 
And  make  shade  pleasure  ; 
Let 's  number  out  the  hours  by  blisses. 
And  count  the  minutes  by  our  kisses ;  3° 

Let  the  heavens  new  motions  feel 
And  by  our  embraces  wheel ; 
And  whilst  we  try  the  way 
By  which  love  doth  convey 

Soul  into  soul,  35 

And  mingling  so 
Makes  them  such  raptures  know 
As  makes  them  entranced  lie 
In  mutual  ecstasy. 
Let  the  harmonious  spheres  in  music  roll.  4° 


140  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 


Richard  Crashaw,  Carmen  Deo 
Nostra,  1652 ;  written  before 
1649. 

A   SONG. 

Lord,  when  the  sense  of  thy  sweet  grace 
Sends  up  my  soul  to  seek  thy  face, 
Thy  blessed  eyes  breed  such  desire 
I  die  in  love's  delicious  fire. 

0  love,  I  am  thy  sacrifice,  5 
Be  still  triumphant,  blessed  eyes; 

Still  shine  on  me,  fair  suns,  that  I 
Still  may  behold  though  still  I  die. 

Though  still  I  die,  I  live  again. 

Still  longing  so  to  be  still  slain;  10 

So  painful  is  such  loss  of  breath, 

1  die  even  in  desire  of  death. 
Still  live  in  me  this  loving  strife 
Of  living  death  and  dying  life: 

For  while  thou  sweetly  slayest  me,  15 

Dead  to  myself,  I  live  in  thee. 


James  Graham,  Marquess  of 
Montrose;  first  printed  in  171 1, 
written  before  1650. 

MY  DEAR  AND    ONLY  LOVE. 

My  dear  and  only  love,  I  pray 

That  little  world  of  thee 
Be  governed  by  no  other  sway 

Than  purest  monarchy; 


MONTROSE.  141 

For  if  confusion  have  a  part,  S 

Which  virtuous  souls  abhor, 
And  hold  a  synod  in  thy  heart, 

I  '11  never  love  thee  more. 

As  Alexander  I  will  reign. 

And  I  will  reign  alone;  lo 

My  thoughts  did  evermore  disdain 

A  rival  on  my  throne. 
He  either  fears  his  fate  too  much. 

Or  his  deserts  are  small, 
That  dares  not  put  it  to  the  touch,  15 

To  gain  or  lose  it  all. 

But  I  will  reign  and  govern  still, 

And  always  give  the  law, 
And  have  each  subject  at  my  will, 

And  all  to  stand  in  awe  ;  20 

But  'gainst  my  batteries  if  I  find 

Thou  kick,  or  vex  me  sore, 
As  that  thou  set  me  up  a  blind, 

I  '11  never  love  thee  more. 

And  in  the  empire  of  thine  heart,  25 

Where  I  should  solely  be. 
If  others  do  pretend  a  part. 

Or  dare  to  vie  with  me, 
Or  if  committees  thou  erect, 

And  go  on  such  a  score,  30 

I  '11  laugh  and  sing  at  thy  neglect. 

And  never  love  thee  more. 

But  if  thou  wilt  prove  faithful,  then, 
And  constant  of  thy  word, 


142  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

I  '11  make  thee  glorious  by  my  pen,  35 

And  famous  by  my  sword  ; 
I  'II  serve  thee  in  such  noble  ways 

Was  never  heard  before ; 
I  '11  crown  and  deck  thee  all  with  bays, 

And  love  thee  more  and  more.  4o 


Phineas  Fletcher,  A  Father's 
Testament,  1670;  written  before 
1650  (?). 

TO    THE   SOUL. 

Fond  soul  is  this 

Thy  way  to  bliss  ? 
Grasp  both  the  Indies,  let  thy  mighty  hand 
The  iron  North  and  golden  South  command ; 

Transcend  the  moon,  S 

Fasten  thy  throne 
Above  the  fixed  stars ;  above  expressions. 
Above  thy  thought  enlarge  thy  vast  possessions  : 

Fond  soul,  all  this 
Can  not  make  up  thy  bliss.  10 

All  these  are  vain, 

Full,  but  with  pain  ; 
All  creatures  have  their  ends  to  serve,  not  bless  thee ; 
As  servants  they  may  help,  as  lords  oppress  thee ; 

They  vex  in  getting  '5 

Used,  lost  with  fretting ; 
Can  slaves  advance }  shades  fill  ?  can  grief  give  rest  ? 
That  which  was  cursed  for  thee  can't  make  thee  blest: 

They  all  are  vain 
And  bring  not  bliss  but  pain.  20 


HENRY  VAUGHAN.  143 

Fond  soul,  thy  birth 

Is  not  of  earth 
Or  heaven  ;  thou  earth  and  heaven  itself  survivest ; 
Though  born  in  time,  thou,  dying,  Time  out-livest. 

They  fail,  deceive  thee,  25 

They  age,  die,  leave  thee ; 
Soar  up  immortal  spirit,  and  mounting  fly 
Into  the  arms  of  great  Eternity  : 

Not  heaven  or  earth, 
He,  he  thy  end  and  birth.  30 


Henry  Vaughan,  Silex  Scintil- 
la ns.  Part  I,  1650. 

THE    RETREAT. 

Happy  those  early  days,  when  I 

Shined  in  my  angel-infancy. 

Before  I  understood  this  place 

Appointed  for  my  second  race. 

Or  taught  my  soul  to  fancy  ought  5 

But  a  white,  celestial  thought ; 

When  yet  I  had  not  walked  above 

A  mile  or  two  from  my  first  love. 

And  looking  back,  at  that  short  space, 

Could  see  a  glimpse  of  his  bright  face;  10 

When  on  some  gilded  cloud,  or  flower 

My  gazing  soul  would  dwell  an  hour. 

And  in  those  weaker  glories  spy 

Some  shadows  of  eternity ; 

Before  I  taught  my  tongue  to  wound  15 

My  conscience  with  a  sinful  sound, 

Or  had  the  black  art  to  dispense 

A  sev'ral  sin  to  ev'ry  sense, 


144  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

But  felt  through  all  this  fleshly  dress 

Bright  shoots  of  everlastingness.  20 

O  how  I  long  to  travel  back, 
And  tread  again  that  ancient  track ! 
That  I  might  once  more  reach  that  plain 
Where  first  I  left  my  glorious  train  ; 
From  whence  th'  enlightened  spirit  sees  25 

That  shady  City  of  palm-trees. 
But  ah,  my  soul  with  too  much  stay 
Is  drunk,  and  staggers  in  the  way ! 
Some  men  a  forward  motion  love. 
But  I  by  backward  steps  would  move ;  3° 

And,  when  this  dust  falls  to  the  urn, 
In  that  state  I  came,  return. 

PEACE. 

My  soul,  there  is  a  country 

Afar  beyond  the  stars. 
Where  stands  a  winged  sentry 

All  skilful  in  the  wars. 
There,  above  noise  and  danger,  5 

Sweet  Peace  sits  crowned  with  smiles, 
And  one  born  in  a  manger 

Commands  the  beauteous  files. 
He  is  thy  gracious  friend 

And  —  O  my  soul,  awake !  —  10 

Did  in  pure  love  descend 

To  die  here  for  thy  sake. 
If  thou  canst  get  but  thither. 

There  grows  the  flower  of  peace, 
The  rose  that  can  not  wither,  ^5 

Thy  fortress  and  thy  ease. 
Leave  then  thy  foolish  ranges; 


HENRY  V AUG  HAN.  145 

For  none  can  thee  secure, 
But  one,  who  never  changes, 

Thy  God,  thy  life,  thy  cure.  20 

LOVE,    AND    DISCIPLINE. 

Since  in  a  land  not  barren  still  — 
Because  thou  dost  thy  grace  distil  — 
My  lot  is  fall'n,  blest  be  thy  will. 

And  since  these  biting  frosts  but  kill 

Some  tares  in  me  which  choke  or  spill  5 

That  seed  thou  sow'st,  blest  be  thy  skill. 

Blest  be  thy  dew,  and  blest  thy  frost, 
And  happy  I  to  be  so  crost, 
And  cured  by  crosses  at  thy  cost. 

The  dew  doth  cheer  what  is  distrest,  10 

The  frosts  ill  weeds  nip  and  molest. 
In  both  thou  work'st  unto  the  best. 

Thus  while  thy  several  mercies  plot. 
And  work  on  me,  now  cold  now  hot, 
The  work  goes  on  and  slacketh  not;  15 

For  as  thy  hand  the  weather  steers, 
So  thrive  I  best  'twixt  joys  and  tears, 
And  all  the  year  have  some  green  ears. 

THE    WORLD. 

I  SAW  Eternity  the  other  night 

Like  a  great  ring  of  pure  and  endless  light, 

All  calm,  as  it  was  bright; 
And  round  beneath  it,  Time  in  hours,  days,  years. 


146  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Driv'n  by  the  spheres,  S 

Like  a  vast  shadow  moved,  in  which  the  world 

And  all  her  train  were  hurled. 
The  doating  lover  in  his  quaintest  strain 

Did  there  complain  ; 
Near  him,  his  lute,  his  fancy,  and  his  flights,  lo 

Wit's  four  delights, 
With  gloves  and  knots,  the  silly  snares  of  pleasvire ; 

Yet  his  dear  treasure 
All  scattered  lay,  while  he  his  eyes  did  pour 

Upon  a  flower.  15 

The  darksome  statesman,  hung  with  weights  and  woe, 
Like  a  thick  midnight-fog,  moved  there  so  slow 

He  did  nor  stay  nor  go; 
Condemning  thoughts,  like  sad  eclipses,  scowl 

LIpon  his  soul,  20 

And  clouds  of  crying  witnesses  without 

Pursued  him  with  one  shout; 
Yet  digged  the  mole,  and,  lest  his  ways  be  found, 

Worked  under  ground. 
Where  he  did  clutch  his  prey.     But  one  did  see  25 

That  policy : 
Churches  and  altars  fed  him  ;  perjuries 

Were  gnats  and  flies  ; 
It  rained  about  him  blood  and  tears;  but  he 

Drank  them  as  free.  30 

The  fearful  miser  on  a  heap  of  rust 

Sate  pining  all  his  life  there,  did  scarce  trust 

His  own  hands  with  the  dust ; 
Yet  would  not  place  one  piece  above,  but  lives 

In  fear  of  thieves.  35 

Thousands  there  were  as  frantic  as  himself 

And  hugged  each  one  his  pelf; 


HENRY  V AUG  HAN.  147 

The  downright  epicure  placed  heaven  in  sense, 

And  scorned  pretence  ; 
While  others,  slipped  into  a  wide  excess,  4° 

Said  little  less ; 
The  weaker  sort  slight,  trivial  wares  enslave, 

Who  think  them  brave  ; 
And  poor,  despised  Truth  sate  counting  by 

Their  victory.  45 

Yet  some,  who  all  this  time  did  weep  and  sing. 
And  sing  and  weep,  soared  up  into  the  ring; 

But  most  would  use  no  wing. 
O  fools,  said  I,  thus  to  prefer  dark  night 

Before  true  light !  5° 

To  live  in  grots  and  caves,  and  hate  the  day 

Because  it  shows  the  way. 
The  way,  which  from  this  dead  and  dark  abode 

Leads  up  to  God ; 
A  way  where  you  might  tread  the  sun,  and  be  55 

As  bright  as  he ! 
But,  as  I  did  their  madness  so  discuss, 

One  whispered  thus: 
"This  ring  the  bridegroom  did  for  none  provide 

But  for  his  bride."  6o 


THE  HIDDEN  FLOWER. 

I  WALKED  the  other  day  to  spend  my  hour 

Into  a  field 
Where  I  sometimes  had  seen  the  soil  to  yield 

A  gallant  flower ; 
But  winter  now  had  ruified  all  the  bower 

And  curious  store 
I  knew  there  heretofore. 


148  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Yet  I,  whose  search  loved  not  to  peep  and  peer 

I'  th'  face  of  things, 
Thought  with  myself,  there  might  be  other  springs      lo 

Besides  this  here. 
Which,  like  cold  friends,  sees  us  but  once  a  year ; 

And  so  the  flower 
Might  have  some  other  bower. 

Then,  taking  up  what  I  could  nearest  spy,  15 

I  digged  about 
That  place  where  I  had  seen  him  to  grow  out ; 

And  by  and  by 
I  saw  the  warm  recluse  alone  to  lie 

Where  fresh  and  green  20 

He  lived  of  us  unseen. 

Many  a  question  intricate  and  rare 

Did  I  there  strow ; 
But  all  I  could  extort  was,  that  he  now 

Did  there  repair  25 

Such  losses  as  befel  him  in  this  air. 

And  would  ere  long 
Come  forth  most  fair  and  young. 

This  past,  I  threw  the  clothes  quite  o'er  his  head ; 

And,  stung  with  fear  3° 

Of  my  own  frailty,  dropped  down  many  a  tear 

Upon  his  bed  ; 
Then  sighing  whispered,  '  Happy  are  the  dead ! 

What  peace  doth  now 
Rock  him  asleep  below  ! '  35 

And  yet,  how  few  believe  such  doctrine  springs 

From  a  poor  root. 
Which  all  the  winter  sleeps  here  under  foot, 


HENRY  VAUGHAN.  149 

And  hath  no  wings 
To  raise  it  to  the  truth  and  light  of  things,  4o 

But  is  stiirtrod 
By  every  wand'ring  clod. 

O  Thou !  whose  spirit  did  at  first  inflame 

And  warm  the  dead, 
And  by  a  sacred  incubation  fed  45 

With  life  this  frame. 
Which  once  had  neither  being,  form,  nor  name,  — 

Grant  I  may  so 
Thy  steps  track  here  below. 

That  in  these  masques  and  shadows  I  may  see  5° 

Thy  sacred  way ; 
And  by  those  hid  ascents  climb  to  that  day. 

Which  breaks  from  thee 
Who  art  in  all  things,  though  invisibly ! 

Show  me  thy  peace,  55 

Thy  mercy,  love,  and  ease  ! 

And  from  this  care,  where  dreams  and  sorrows  reign. 

Lead  me  above. 
Where  light,  joy,  leisure,  and  true  comforts  move 

Without  all  pain ;  6o 

There,  hid  in  thee,  show  me  his  life  again. 

At  whose  dumb  urn 
Thus  all  the  year  I  mourn. 


150  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 


Andrew  Marvell,  Miscellatte- 
ous  Poems,  1681  ;  written  before 
1651. 

THE    CORONET. 

When  for  the  thorns  with  which  I  long,  too  long, 

With  many  a  piercing  wound. 

My  Saviour's  head  have  crowned, 
I  seek  with  garlands  to  redress  that  wrong,  — 

Through  every  garden,  every  mead,  5 

I  gather  flowers  (my  fruits  are  only  flowers). 

Dismantling  all  the  fragrant  towers 
That  once  adorned  my  shepherdess's  head; 
And  now,  when  I  have  summed  up  all  my  store, 

Thinking  (so  I  myself  deceive),  10 

So  rich  a  chaplet  thence  to  weave 
As  never  yet  the  King  of  Glory  wore, 

Alas  !  I  find  the  Serpent  old, 

That,  twining  in  his  speckled  breast. 

About  the  flowers  disguised  does  fold  15 

With  wreaths  of  fame  and  interest. 
Ah  foolish  man,  that  wouldst  debase  with  them 
And  mortal  glory,  heaven's  diadem  ! 
But  thou  who  only  couldst  the  Serpent  tame. 
Either  his  slipp'ry  knots  at  once  untie,  20 

And  disentangle  all  his  winding  snare ; 
Or  shatter  too  with  him  my  curious  frame. 
And  let  these  wither  —  so  that  he  may  die  — 
Though  set  with  skill,  and  chosen  out  with  care : 
That  they  while  thou  on  both  their  spoils  dost  tread,  25 
May  crown  thy  feet,  that  could  not  crown  thy  head. 


ANDREW  MARVELL.  151 

BERMUDAS. 

Where  the  remote  Bermudas  ride 
In  the  ocean's  bosom  unespied, 
From  a  small  boat,  that  rowed  along, 
The  listening  winds  received  this  song : 

What  should  we  do  but  sing  his  praise,  S 

That  led  us  through  the  watery  maze. 

Unto  an  isle  so  long  unknown, 

And  yet  far  kinder  than  our  own  ? 

Where  he  the  huge  sea-monsters  wracks, 

That  lift  the  deep  upon  their  backs,  lo 

He  lands  us  on  a  grassy  stage, 

Safe  from  the  storms'  and  prelates'  rage. 

He  gave  us  this  eternal  spring. 

Which  here  enamels  everything. 

And  sends  the  fowls  to  us  in  care  15 

On  daily  visits  through  the  air; 

He  hangs  in  shades  the  orange  bright, 

Like  golden  lamps  in  a  green  night, 

And  does  in  the  pomegranates  close 

Jewels  more  rich  than  Ormus  shows;  20 

He  makes  the  figs  our  mouths  to  meet. 

And  throws  the  melons  at  our  feet ; 

But  apples  plants  of  such  a  price 

No  tree  could  ever  bear  them  twice ; 

With  cedars  chosen  by  his  hand  25 

From  Lebanon,  he  stores  the  land, 

And  makes  the  hollow  seas,  that  roar, 

Proclaim  the  ambergris  on  shore; 

He  cast  (of  which  we  rather  boast) 

The  gospel's  pearl  upon  our  coast,  3° 

And  in  these  rocks  for  us  did  frame 


152  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

A  temple,  where  to  sound  his  name. 

O  let  our  voice  his  praise  exalt, 

Till  it  arrive  at  heaven's  vault, 

Which,  thence  (perhaps)  rebounding  may  35 

Echo  beyond  the  Mexique  bay. 

Thus  sung  they  in  the  English  boat, 

A  holy  and  a  cheerful  note ; 

And  all  the  way  to  guide  their  chime 

With  falling  oars  they  kept  the  time.  40 


CLORINDA   AND    DAMON. 

Clorinda. 
Damon,  come  drive  thy  flocks  this  way. 

Da>/:oH. 
No,  't  is  too  late  they  went  astray. 

Clorinda. 
I  have  a  grassy  scutcheon  spied, 
Where  Flora  blazons  all  her  pride  ; 
The  grass  I  aim  to  feast  thy  sheep, 
The  flowers  I  for  thy  temples  keep. 

Danioti. 
Grass  withers,  and  the  flowers  too  fade. 

Clorittda. 
Seize  the  short  joys  then,  ere  they  vade. 
Seest  thou  that  unfrequented  cave  ? 

Da7non. 
That  den  1 


ANDREW  MARVELL.  153 

Clormda. 
Love's  shrine. 

Damon. 

But  virtue's  grave. 

Clormda. 

In  whose  cool  bosom  we  may  lie, 
Safe  from  the  sun. 

Damon. 

Not  heaven's  eye. 

Clorinda. 

Near  this,  a  fountain's  liquid  bell 
Tinkles  within  the  concave  shell. 

Damon. 

Might  a  soul  bathe  there  and  be  clean,  15 

Or  slake  its  drought  1 

Clorinda. 

What  is  't  you  mean  ? 

Datnon. 

These  once  had  been  enticing  things, 
Clorinda  —  pastures,  caves,  and  springs. 

Clorinda. 
And  what  late  change  ? 

Damoji. 

The  other  day 
Pan  met  me.  20 


154  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Clorinda. 
What  did  great  Pan  say  ? 

Damon. 

Words  that  transcend  poor  shepherd's  skill ; 
But  he  e'er  since  my  songs  does  fill, 
And  his  name  swells  my  slender  oat. 

Clorinda. 
Sweet  must  Pan  sound  in  Damon's  note. 

Damon. 
Clorinda's  voice  might  make  it  sweet.  25 

Clorinda. 
Who  would  not  in  Pan's  praises  meet  ? 

Chorus. 

Of  Pan  the  flowery  pastures  sing, 

Caves  echo,  and  the  fountains  ring. 

Sing  then  while  he  doth  us  inspire  ; 

For  all  the  world  is  our  Pan's  choir.  3° 

A    DIALOGUE    BETWEEN    THYRSIS    AND 
DORINDA. 

Dori7ida. 

When  death  shall  snatch  us  from  these  kids, 
And  shut  up  our  divided  lids. 
Tell  me,  Thyrsis,  prithee  do. 
Whither  thou  and  I  must  go. 


ANDREW  MARVELL.  15S 

Thyrsis. 
To  the  Elysium.  5 

Dorinda. 

O  where  is  't  ? 

Thyrsis. 
A  chaste  soul  can  never  miss  't. 

Dorinda. 

I  know  no  way  but  one  :  our  home 
Is  our  Elysium. 

Thyrsis. 

Cast  thine  eye  to  yonder  sky ; 

There  the  milky  way  doth  lie  :  lo 

'T  is  a  sure  but  rugged  way 

That  leads  to  everlasting  day. 

Dorinda. 

There  birds  may  nest,  but  how  can  I 
That  have  no  wings  and  cannot  fly  ? 

Thyrsis. 

Do  not  sigh,  fair  nymph,  for  fire  ^S 

Hath  no  wings,  yet  doth  aspire 
Till  it  hit  against  the  pole  : 
Heaven  's  the  centre  of  the  soul. 

Dorinda. 

But  in  Elysium  how  do  they 

Pass  eternity  away?  20 


156  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Thyrsis. 

0  there  's  neither  hope  nor  fear ; 
There  's  no  wolf,  no  fox,  no  bear  ; 
No  need  of  dog  to  fetch  our  stray. 
Our  Lightfoot  we  may  give  away  ; 

And  there  most  sweetly  may  thine  ear  25 

Feast  with  the  music  of  the  sphere. 

Doritida. 
How  I  my  future  state 
By  silent  thinking  antedate ! 

1  prithee  let  us  spend  our  time  [to]  come 

In  talking  of  Elysium.  30 

Thyrsis. 

Then  I  '11  go  on  :  there,  sheep  are  full 

Of  softest  grass  and  softest  wool ; 

There  birds  sing  consorts,  garlands  grow, 

Cool  winds  do  whisper,  springs  do  flow ; 

There  always  is  a  rising  sun,  35 

And  day  is  ever  but  begun  ; 

Shepherds  there  bear  equal  sway. 

And  every  nymph  's  a  queen  of  May. 

Dorinda. 

Ah  me  1  ah  me  ! 

Thyrsis. 

Dorinda,  why  dost  cry? 

Dorinda. 
I  'm  sick,  I  'm  sick,  and  fain  would  die.  40 


ANDREW  MARVELL.  157 

Thyrsis. 

Convince  me  now  that  this  is  true, 
By  bidding  with  me  all  adieu. 

Dorinda. 

I  cannot  live  without  thee,  I 

Will  for  thee,  much  more  with  thee,  die. 

Thy7-sis. 

Then  let  us  give  Corellia  charge  o'  th'  sheep,  45 

And  thou  and  I'll  pick  poppies,  and  them  steep 
In  wine,  and  drink  on  't  even  till  we  weep : 
So  shall  we  smoothly  pass  away  in  sleep. 

THE    FAIR    SINGER. 

To  make  a  final  conquest  of  all  me, 

Love  did  compose  so  sweet  an  enemy. 

In  whom  both  beauties  to  my  death  agree. 

Joining  themselves  in  fatal  harmony; 

That,  while  she  with  her  eyes  my  heart  does  bind,        5 

She  with  her  voice  might  captivate  my  mind. 

I  could  have  fled  from  one  but  singly  fair  ; 

My  disentangled  soul  itself  might  save, 

Breaking  the  curled  trammels  of  her  hair ; 

But  how  should  I  avoid  to  be  her  slave  lo 

Whose  subtle  art  invisibly  can  wreathe 

My  fetters  of  the  yery  air  I  breathe  ? 

It  had  been  easy  fighting  in  some  plain, 

Where  victory  might  hang  in  equal  choice  ; 

But  all  resistance  against  her  is  vain  iS 

Who  has  th'  advantage  both  of  eyes  and  voice  ; 


158  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

And  all  my  forces  needs  must  be  undone, 
She  having  gained  both  the  wind  and  sun. 


TO    HIS    COY    MISTRESS. 

Had  we  but  world  enough  and  time, 

This  coyness,  lady,  were  no  crime. 

We  would  sit  down  and  think  which  way 

To  walk  and  pass  our  long  love's  day. 

Thou  by  the  Indian  Ganges'  side  5 

Shouldst  rubies  find  ;  I  by  the  tide 

Of  Humber  would  complain.     I  would 

Love  you  ten  years  before  the  Flood  ; 

And  you  should,  if  you  please,  refuse 

Till  the  conversion  of  the  Jews.  lo 

My  vegetable  love  should  grow 

Vaster  than  empires,  and  more  slow ; 

An  hundred  years  should  go  to  praise 

Thine  eyes  and  on  thy  forehead  gaze ; 

Two  hundred  to  adore  each  breast,  15 

But  thirty  thousand  to  the  rest ; 

An  age  at  least  to  every  part, 

And  the  last  age  should  show  your  heart. 

For,  lady,  you  deserve  this  state, 

Nor  would  I  love  at  lower  rate.  20 

But  at  my  back  I  always  hear 

Time's  winged  chariot  hurrying  near ; 

And  yonder  all  before  us  lie 

Deserts  of  vast  eternity. 

Thy  beauty  shall  no  more  be  found,  25 

Nor,  in  thy  marble  vault,  shall  sound 

My  echoing  song ;  then  worms  shall  try 

That  long  preserved  virginity; 


ANDREW  MARVELL.  159 

And  your  quaint  honor  turn  to  dust, 

And  into  ashes  all  my  lust  :  3° 

The  grave  's  a  fine  and  private  place, 

But  none,  I  think,  do  there  embrace. 

Now  therefore  while  the  youthful  hue 

Sits  on  thy  skin  like  morning  dew. 

And  while  thy  willing  soul  transpires  35 

At  every  pore  with  instant  fires, 

Now  let  us  sport  us  while  we  may. 

And  now,  like  amorous  birds  of  prey. 

Rather  at  once  our  time  devour 

Than  languish  in  his  slow-chapt  power.  4° 

Let  us  roll  all  our  strength,  and  all 

Our  sweetness  up  into  one  ball ; 

And  tear  our  pleasures  with  rough  strife 

Thorough  the  iron  gates  of  life  : 

Thus,  though  we  cannot  make  our  sun  45 

Stand  still,  yet  we  will  make  him  run. 


THE  PICTURE   OF   LITTLE  T.   C.   IN   A   PROSPECT 
OF    FLOWERS. 

See  with  what  simplicity 

This  nymph  begins  her  golden  days  ! 

In  the  green  grass  she  loves  to  lie, 

And  there  with  her  fair  aspect  tames 

The  wilder  flowers  and  gives  them  names,  ! 

But  only  with  the  roses  plays. 

And  them  does  tell 
What  colors  best  become  them  and  what  smell. 

Who  can  foretell  for  what  high  cause. 

This  darling  of  the  gods  was  born  ?  ic 


160  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Yet  this  is  she  whose  chaster  laws 
The  wanton  Love  shall  one  day  fear, 
And,  under  her  command  severe, 
See  his  bow  broke,  and  ensigns  torn. 

Happy  who  can  iS 

Appease  this  virtuous  enemy  of  man  ! 

O  then  let  me  in  time  compound 

And  parley  with  those  conquering  eyes, 

Ere  they  have  tried  their  force  to  wound ; 

Ere  with  their  glancing  wheels  they  drive  20 

In  triumph  over  hearts  that  strive, 

And  them  that  yield  but  more  despise : 

Let  me  be  laid, 
Where  I  may  see  the  glories  from  some  shade. 

Meantime,  whilst  every  verdant  thing  25 

Itself  does  at  thy  beauty  charm, 

Reform  the  errors  of  the  spring ; 

Make  that  the  tulips  may  have  share 

Of  sweetness,  seeing  they  are  fair ; 

And  roses  of  their  thorns  disarm  ;  30 

But  most  procure 
That  violets  may  a  longer  age  endure. 

But  O,  young  beauty  of  the  woods, 

Whom  nature  courts  with  fruit  and  flowers, 

Gather  the  flowers,  but  spare  the  buds,  35 

Lest  Flora,  angry  at  thy  crime 

To  kill  her  infants  in  their  prime, 

Do  quickly  make  th'  example  yours  ; 

And  ere  we  see, 
Nip,  in  the  blossom,  all  our  hopes  and  thee.  4° 


ANDREW  MARVELL.  161 

THE    MOWER    TO    THE    GLOW-WORMS. 

Ye  living  lamps,  by  whose  dear  light 
The  nightingale  does  sit  so  late, 
And  studying  all  the  summer  night, 
Her  matchless  songs  does  meditate ; 

Ye  country  comets,  that  portend  .  5 

No  war  nor  prince's  funeral, 
Shining  unto  no  higher  end 
Than  to  presage  the  grass's  fall ; 

Ye  glow-worms,  whose  ofhcious  flame 

To  wandering  mowers  shows  the  way,  lo 

That  in  the  night  have  lost  their  aim, 

And  after  foolish  fires  do  stray ; 

Your  courteous  lights  in  vain  you  waste, 
Since  Juliana  here  is  come  ; 

For  she  my  mind  hath  so  displaced,  iS 

That  I  shall  never  find  my  home. 

THE    MOWER'S    SONG. 

My  mind  was  once  the  true  survey 
Of  all  these  meadows  fresh  and  gay. 
And  in  the  greenness  of  the  grass 
Did  see  its  hopes  as  in  a  glass ; 

When  Juliana  came,  and  she,  5 

What  I  do  to  the  grass,  does  to  my  thoughts  and  me. 

But  these,  while  I  with  sorrow  pine. 
Grew  more  luxuriant  still  and  fine. 
That  not  one  blade  of  grass  you  spied 
But  had  a  flower  on  either  side  ;  lo 

When  Juliana  came,  and  she. 
What  I  do  to  the  grass,  does  to  my  thoughts  and  me. 


162  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Unthankful  meadows,  could  you  so 
A  fellowship  so  true  forego, 

And  in  your  gaudy  May-games  meet,  15 

While  I  lay  trodden  under  feet  — 
When  Juliana  came,  and  she. 
What  I  do  to  the  grass,  does  to  my  thoughts  and  me  ? 

But  what  you  in  compassion  ought. 
Shall  now  by  my  revenge  be  wrought ;  20 

And  flowers,  and  grass,  and  I,  and  all, 
Will  in  one  common  ruin  fall ; 
For  Juliana  comes,  and  she, 
What  I  do  to  the  grass,  does  to  my  thoughts  and  me. 

And  thus,  ye  meadows,  which  have  been  25 

Companions  of  my  thoughts  more  green, 
Shall  now  the  heraldry  become 
With  which  I  shall  adorn  my  tomb  ; 
For  Juliana  came,  and  she, 
What  I  do  to  the  grass,  does  to  my  thoughts  and  me.     30 


MAKING    HAY-ROPES. 

A  in  etas. 

Think'st  thou  that  this  love  can  stand, 
Whilst  thou  still  dost  say  me  nay  ? 

Love  unpaid  does  soon  disband  : 
Love  binds  love  as  hay  binds  hay, 

TJiestylis. 

Think'st  thou  that  this  rope  would  twine 
If  we  both  should  turn  one  way  ? 

Where  both  parties  so  combine. 
Neither  love  will  twist  nor  hay. 


SIJi   EDWARD  SHERBURNE.  163 

A  met  as. 

Thus  you  vain  excuses  find, 

Which  yourself  and  us  delay ;  lo 

And  love  ties  a  woman's  mind 

Looser  than  with  ropes  of  hay. 

Thestylis. 

What  you  cannot  constant  hope 
Must  be  taken  as  you  may. 

Avietas. 

Then  let 's  both  lay  by  our  rope  15 

And  go  kiss  within  the  hay. 


Sir  Edward    Sherburne,   Sal- 
niasis,  Lyrian  atid  Sylvia,  1651. 

THE    VOW. 

By  my  life  I  vow, 

That  my  life  art  thou, 
By  my  heart  and  by  my  eyes ; 

But  thy  faith  denies 
To  my  juster  oath  t'  incline. 
For  thou  say'st  I  swear  by  thine. 

By  this  sigh  I  swear. 

By  this  falling  tear, 
By  the  undeserved  pains 

My  griev'd  soul  sustains  : 
Now  thou  may'st  believe  my  moan. 
These  are  too  too  much  my  own. 


164  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

WEEPING    AND    KISSING. 

A  KISS  I  begged,  but  smiling  she 

Denied  it  me ; 
When  straight,  her  cheeks  with  tears  o'erflown  — 

Now  kinder  grown  — 
What  smiling  she  'd  not  let  one  have 

She  weeping  gave. 
Then  you  whom  scornful  beauties  awe, 

Hope  yet  relief 
From  Love,  who  tears  from  smiles  can  draw, 

Pleasure  from  grief. 

NOVO    INAMORAMENTO. 

And  yet  anew  entangled,  see 

Him  who  escaped  the  snare  so  late ! 

A  truce,  no  league,  thou  mad'st  with  me, 
False  love,  which  now  is  out  of  date  : 

Fool,  to  believe  the  fire  quite  out,  alas. 

Which  only  laid  asleep  in  embers  was. 

The  sickness  not  at  first  past  cure. 

By  this  relapse  despiseth  art. 
Now,  treacherous  boy,  thou  hast  me  sure, 

Playing  the  wanton  with  my  heart. 
As  foolish  children  that  a  bird  have  got 
Slacken  the  thread,  but  not  untie  the  knot. 

THE    SWEETMEAT. 

Thou  gav'st  me  late  to  eat 
A  sweet  without,  but  within,  bitter  meat : 
As  if  thou  would'st  have  said  '  Here,  taste  in  this 
What  Celia  is.' 


S/J^   EDWARD   SHERBURNE.  165 

But  if  there  ought  to  be  S 

A  likeness,  dearest,  'twixt  thy  gift  and  thee, 
Why  first  what 's  sweet  in  thee  should  I  not  taste, 
The  bitter  last  ? 


CHANGE    DEFENDED. 

Leave,  Chloris,  leave ;   I  pray  no  more 
With  want  of  love  or  lightness  charge  me. 

'Cause  thy  looks  captived  me  before. 
May  not  another's  now  enlarge  me? 

He  whose  misguided  zeal  hath  long  5 

Paid  homage  to  some  pale  star's  light. 

Better  informed,  may  without  wrong 
Leave  that  t'  adore  the  queen  of  night. 

Then  if  my  heart,  which  long  served  thee, 

Will  to  Carintha  now  incline  ;  lo 

Why  termed  inconstant  should  it  be 
For  bowing  'fore  a  richer  shrine? 

Censure  those  lovers  so,  whose  will 

Inferior  objects  can  entice  ; 
Who  changes  for  the  better  still,  15 

Makes  that  a  virtue,  you  call  vice. 


THE    FOUNTAIN. 

Stranger,  whoe'er  thou  art,  that  stoop'st  to  taste 
These  sweeter  streams,  let  me  arrest  thy  haste ; 
Nor  of  their  fall 

The  murmurs  (though  the  lyre 

Less  sweet  be)  stand  to  admire.  5 


166  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

But  as  you  shall 
See  from  this  marble  tun 
The  liquid  crystal  run, 
And  mark  withal 
How  fixed  the  one  abides, 
How  fast  the  other  glides  ; 
Instructed  thus,  the  difference  learn  to  see 
'Twixt  mortal  life  and  immortaUty. 


John    Milton,  Letters  of  State, 
1694,  written  1652. 

SONNET. 

XVI. 
TO  THE  LORD  GENERAL  CROMWELL. 

Cromwell,  our  chief  of  men,  who  through  a  cloud 

Not  of  war  only,  but  detractions  rude. 

Guided  by  faith  and  matchless  fortitude, 

To  peace  and  truth  thy  glorious  way  hast  ploughed, 

And  on  the  neck  of  crowned  Fortune  proud 

Hast  reared  God's  trophies,  and  his  work  pursued, 

While  Darwen  stream,  with  blood  of  Scots  imbrued, 

And  Dunbar  field,  resounds  thy  praises  loud. 

And  Worcester's  laureate  wreath  :  yet  much  remains 

To  conquer  still ;  peace  hath  her  victories 

No  less  renowned  than  war :  new  foes  arise, 

Threatening  to  bind  our  souls  with  secular  chains. 

Help  us  to  save  free  conscience  from  the  paw 

Of  hireling  wolves,  whose  Gospel  is  their  maw. 


JAMES  SHIRLEY.  167 

James  Shirley,  Cupid  and  Death, 
1653- 

DEATH'S  SUBTLE    WAYS. 

Victorious  men  of  earth,  no  more 

Proclaim  how  wide  your  empires  are  ; 

Though  you  bind  in  every  shore 

And  your  triumphs  reach  as  far 

As  night  or  day,  5 

Yet  you,  proud  monarchs,  must  obey 

And  mingle  with  forgotten  ashes  when 

Death  calls  ye  to  the  crowd  of  common  men. 

Devouring  famine,  plague,  and  war, 

Each  able  to  undo  mankind,  10 

Death's  servile  emissaries  are ; 

Nor  to  these  alone  confined, 
He  hath  at  will 
More  quaint  and  subtle  ways  to  kill : 
A  smile  or  kiss,  as  he  will  use  the  art,  15 

Shall  have  the  cunning  skill  to  break  a  heart. 


John  Milton,  Poems  upon  Several 
Occasions,  1673;  written  1655. 

SONNETS. 

XVIII. 
ON    THE    LATE    MASSACRE    IN    PIEDMONT, 

Avenge,  O  Lord,  thy  slaughtered  saints,  whose  bones 
Lie  scattered  on  the  Alpine  mountains  cold ; 
Even  them  who  kept  thy  truth  so  pure  of  old, 
When  all  our  fathers  worshipped  stocks  and  stones, 


168  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Forget  not :  in  thy  book  record  their  groans 
Who  were  thy  sheep,  and  in  their  ancient  fold 
Slain  by  the  bloody  Piedmontese,  that  rolled 
Mother  and  infant  down  the  rocks.     Their  moans 
The  vales  redoubled  to  the  hills,  and  they 
To  heaven.     Their  martyred  blood  and  ashes  sow 
O'er  all  th'  Italian  fields,  where  still  doth  sway 
The  triple  Tyrant ;  that  from  these  may  grow 
A  hundredfold,  who,  having  learnt  thy  way, 
Early  may  fly  the  Babylonian  woe. 

XIX. 
ON    HIS    BLINDNESS. 

When  I  consider  how  my  light  is  spent. 

Ere  half  my  days,  in  this  dark  world  and  wide, 

And  that  one  talent  which  is  death  to  hide 

Lodged  with  me  useless,  though  my  soul  more  bent 

To  serve  therewith  my  Maker,  and  present 

My  true  account,  lest  he  returning  chide, 

'  Doth  God  exact  day-labor,  light  denied  ? ' 

I  fondly  ask.     But  patience,  to  prevent 

That  murmur,  soon  replies,  'God  doth  not  need 

Either  man's  work  or  his  own  gifts.     Who  best 

Bear  his  mild  yoke,  they  serve  him  best.      His  state 

Is  kingly :  thousands  at  his  bidding  speed, 

And  post  o'er  land  and  ocean  without  rest ; 

They  also  serve  who  only  stand  and  wait.' 


HENRY   VAUGHAN.  169 


Henry  Vaughan,  Silex  Scintil- 
la ns,  Part  II,  1655. 

DEPARTED   FRIENDS. 

They  are  all  gone  into  the  world  of  light, 

And  I  alone  sit  ling'ring  here. 
Their  very  memory  is  fair  and  bright, 

And  my  sad  thoughts  doth  clear. 

It  glows  and  glitters  in  my  cloudy  breast  S 

Like  stars  upon  some  gloomy  grove, 
Or  those  faint  beams  in  which  this  hill  is  drest 

After  the  sun's  remove. 

I  see  them  walking  in  an  air  of  glory, 

Whose  light  doth  trample  on  my  days ;  10 

My  days,  which  are  at  best  but  dull  and  hoary, 

Mere  glimmerings  and  decays. 

O  holy  hope  !  and  high  humility ! 

High  as  the  heavens  above; 
These  are  your  walks,  and  you  have  show'd  them  me,    15 

To  kindle  my  cold  love. 

Dear,  beauteous  death,  the  jewel  of  the  just. 

Shining  nowhere  but  in  the  dark ; 
What  mysteries  do  lie  beyond  thy  dust, 

Could  man  outlook  that  mark  !  20 

He  that  hath  found  some  fledged  bird's  nest  may  know 

At  first  sight  if  the  bird  be  flown  ; 
But  what  fair  well  or  grove  he  sings  in  now, 

That  is  to  him  unknown. 

And  yet,  as  angels  in  some  brighter  dreams  25 

Call  to  the  soul  when  man  doth  sleep. 


170  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

So  some  strange  thoughts  transcend  our  wonted  themes, 
And  into  glory  peep. 

If  a  star  were  confined  into  a  tomb, 

Her  captive  flames  must  needs  burn  there  ;  3° 

But  when  the  hand  that  locked  her  up  gives  room, 

She  '11  shine  through  all  the  sphere. 

O  Father  of  eternal  life,  and  all 

Created  glories  under  thee  ! 
Resume  thy  spirit  from  this  world  of  thrall  35 

Into  true  liberty ! 

Either  disperse  these  mists,  which  blot  and  fill 

My  perspective  still  as  they  pass; 
Or  else  remove  me  hence  unto  that  hill, 

Where  I  shall  need  no  glass.  4° 

THE    THRONE. 

When  with  these  eyes,  closed  now  by  thee, 

But  then  restored, 
The  great  and  white  throne  I  shall  see 

Of  my  dread  Lord  ; 
And  lowly  kneeling  —  for  the  most  S 

Stiff  then  must  kneel  — 
Shall  look  on  him  at  whose  high  cost, 

Unseen,  such  joys  I  feel ; 

Whatever  arguments  or  skill 

Wise  heads  shall  use,  lo 

Tears  and  my  blushes  still 

Will  I  produce. 
And  should  these  speechless  beggars  fail. 

Which  oft  have  won. 
Then,  taught  by  thee,  I  will  prevail  15 

And  say:   "Thy  will  be  done." 


CHARLES   COTTON.  171 

Charles  Cotton,  Poems  on  Several 
Occasions,  1689;  written  about 
1655- 

ODE. 

The  day  is  set  did  earth  adorn, 

To  drink  the  brewing  of  the  main ; 
And,  hot  with  travel,  will  ere  morn 

Carouse  it  to  an  ebb  again. 
Then  let  us  drink,  time  to  improve,  5 

Secure  of  Cromwell  and  his  spies ; 
Night  will  conceal  our  healths  and  love, 

For  all  her  thousand  thousand  eyes. 

Chorus. 
Then  let  us  drink,  secure  of  spies, 
To  Phoebus  and  his  second  rise.  10 

Without  the  evening  dew  and  showers 

The  earth  would  be  a  barren  place, 
Of  trees  and  plants,  of  herbs  and  flowers, 

To  crown  her  now  enamelled  face ; 
Nor  can  wit  spring,  nor  fancies  grow,  15 

Unless  we  dew  our  heads  in  wine. 
Plump  autumn's  wealthy  overflow 

And  sprightly  issue  of  the  vine. 

CJiorus. 
Then  let  us  drink,  secure  of  spies. 
To  Phoebus  and  his  second  rise.  20 

Wine  is  the  cure  of  cares  and  sloth, 

That  rust  the  metal  of  the  mind ; 
The  juice  that  man  to  man  does  both 

In  freedom  and  in  friendship  bind. 
This  clears  the  monarch's  cloudy  brows,  25 


172  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

And  cheers  the  hearts  of  sullen  swains, 
To  wearied  souls  repose  allows, 

And  makes  slaves  caper  in  their  chains. 

Chortis. 
Then  let  us  drink,  secure  of  spies, 
To  Phcebus  and  his  second  rise.  30 

Wine,  that  distributes  to  each  part 

Its  heat  and  motion,  is  the  spring, 
The  poet's  head,  the  subject's  heart, 

'T  was  wine  made  old  Anacreon  sing. 
Then  let  us  quaff  it  while  the  night  35 

Serves  but  to  hide  such  guilty  souls. 
As  fly  the  beauty  of  the  light 

Or  dare  not  pledge  our  loyal  bowls. 

Chorus. 
Then  let  us  revel,  quaff  and  sing. 
Health  and  his  sceptre  to  the  king.  40 

ODE. 

Fair  Isabel,  if  aught  but  thee 

I  could,  or  would,  or  like,  or  love ; 
If  other  beauties  but  approve 
To  sweeten  my  captivity  : 

I  might  those  passions  be  above,  5 

Those  powerful  passions,  that  combine 
To  make  and  keep  me  only  thine. 

Or  if  for  tempting  treasure,  I 

Of  the  world's  god,  prevailing  gold. 
Could  see  thy  love  and  my  truth  sold,  10 

A  greater,  nobler  treasury  : 

My  flame  to  thee  might  then  grow  cold. 
And  I,  like  one  whose  love  is  sense. 
Exchange  thee  for  convenience. 


ABRAHAM  COWLEY.  173 

But  when  I  vow  to  thee  I  do  15 

Love  thee  above  or  health  or  peace, 
Gold,  joy,  and  all  such  toys  as  these, 
'Bove  happiness  and  honor  too  : 

Thou  then  must  know,  this  love  can  cease 

Nor  change,  for  all  the  glorious  show  20 

Wealth  and  discretion  bribes  us  to. 

What  such  a  love  deserves,  thou,  sweet. 
As  knowing  best,  mayst  best  reward ; 
I,  for  thy  bounty  well  prepared. 
With  open  arms  my  blessing  meet.  25 

Then  do  not,  dear,  our  joys  detard ; 
But  unto  him  propitious  be 
That  knows  no  love,  nor  life,  but  thee. 


Abraham  Cowley,  Miscellanies, 
1656. 

THE    CHRONICLE. 

A    BALLAD. 

Margarita  first  possessed, 
If  I  remember  well,  my  breast, 

Margarita  first  of  all ; 
But  when  awhile  the  wanton  maid 
With  my  restless  heart  had  played, 

Martha  took  the  flying  ball. 

Martha  soon  did  it  resign 
To  the  beauteous  Catherine. 

Beauteous  Catherine  gave  place 
(Though  loth  and  angry  she  to  part 
With  the  possession  of  my  heart) 

To  Elisa's  conquering  face. 


174  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Elisa  till  this  hour  might  reign 
Had  she  not  evil  counsels  ta'en. 

Fundamental  laws  she  broke,  15 

And  still  new  favorites  she  chose, 
Till  up  in  arms  my  passions  rose. 

And  cast  away  her  yoke. 

Mary  then  and  gentle  Ann 

Both  to  reign  at  once  began,  20 

Alternately  they  swayed  ; 
And  sometimes  Mary  was  the  fair. 
And  sometimes  Ann  the  crown  did  wear ; 

And  sometimes  both  I  obeyed. 

Another  Mary  then  arose  25 

And  did  rigorous  laws  impose. 

A  mighty  tyrant  she  ! 
Long,  alas,  should  I  have  been 
Under  that  iron-sceptred  Queen, 

Had  not  Rebecca  set  me  free.  30 

When  fair  Rebecca  set  me  free, 
'T  was  then  a  golden  time  with  me. 

But  soon  those  pleasures  fled  ; 
For  the  gracious  princess  died 
In  her  youth  and  beauty's  pride,  35 

And  Judith  reigned  in  her  stead. 

One  month,  three  days  and  half  an  hour 
Judith  held  the  sovereign  power, 

Wondrous  beautiful  her  face  ; 
But  so  small  and  weak  her  wit,  40 

That  she  to  govern  was  unfit, 

And  so  Susanna  took  her  place. 


ABRAHAM  COWLEY.  175 

But  when  Isabella  came 
Armed  with  a  resistless  flame 

And  th'  artillery  of  her  eye  ;  45 

Whilst  she  proudly  marched  about 
Greater  conquests  to  find  out, 

She  beat  out  Susan  by  the  by. 

But  in  her  place  1  then  obeyed 

Black-eyed  Bess,  her  viceroy-maid,  5° 

To  whom  ensued  a  vacancy. 
Thousand  worse  passions  then  possessed 
The  interregnum  of  my  breast. 

Bless  me  from  such  an  anarchy ! 

Gentle  Henrietta  than  55 

And  a  third  Mary  next  began, 

Then  Joan,  and  Jane,  and  Audria. 
And  then  a  pretty  Thomasine, 
And  then  another  Catherine, 

And  then  a  long  et  ccetera.  6o 

But  should  I  now  to  you  relate. 

The  strength  and  riches  of  their  state, 

The  powder,  patches,  and  the  pins, 
The  ribbands,  jewels,  and  the  rings. 
The  lace,  the  paint,  and  warlike  things  65 

That  make  up  all  their  magazines  ; 

If  I  should  tell  the  politic  arts 
To  take  and  keep  men's  hearts. 

The  letters,  embassies  and  spies, 
The  frowns,  and  smiles,  and  flatteries,  7° 

The  quarrels,  tears  and  perjuries. 

Numberless,  nameless  mysteries ! 


176  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

And  all  the  little  lime-twigs  laid 
By  Matchavil,  the  waiting-maid  ; 

I  more  voluminous  should  grow  75 

(Chiefly  if  I  like  them  should  tell 
All  change  of  weathers  that  befell) 

Than  Holinshed  or  Stow. 

But  I  will  briefer  with  them  be, 

Since  few  of  them  were  long  with  me.  80 

An  higher  and  a  nobler  strain 
My  present  Emperess  does  claim, 
Heleonora,  first  o'  th'  name ; 

Whom  God  grant  long  to  reign  ! 


ANACREONTIQUE    II. 

DRINKING. 

The  thirsty  earth  soaks  up  the  rain, 

And  drinks,  and  gapes  for  drink  again. 

The  plants  suck  in  the  earth,  and  are 

With  constant  drinking  fresh  and  fair. 

The  sea  itself,  which  one  would  think  5 

Should  have  but  little  need  of  drink, 

Drinks  ten  thousand  rivers  up, 

So  filled  that  they  o'erflow  the  cup. 

The  busy  sun  —  and  one  would  guess 

By's  drunken  fiery  face  no  less —  10 

Drinks  up  the  sea,  and  when  he  has  done. 

The  moon  and  stars  drink  up  the  sun; 

They  drink  and  dance  by  their  own  light, 

They  drink  and  revel  all  the  night. 

Nothing  in  nature  's  sober  found,  '5 

But  an  eternal  health  goes  round. 


HENRY  KING.  177 


Fill  up  the  bowl  then,  fill  it  high ; 
Fill  all  the  glasses  there,  for  why 
Should  every  creature  drink  but  I  - 
Why,  men  of  morals,  tell  me  why  ? 


Henry    King,    Poems,     Elegies, 
Paradoxes,  and  Sonnets,  1657. 

SONNET. 

Tell  me  no  more  how  fair  she  is, 

I  have  no  mind  to  hear 
The  story  of  that  distant  bliss 

I  never  shall  come  near : 
By  sad  experience  I  have  found  5 

That  her  perfection  is  my  wound. 

And  tell  me  not  how  fond  I  am 

To  tempt  my  daring  fate. 
From  whence  no  triumph  ever  came, 

But  to  repent  too  late:  10 

There  is  some  hope  ere  long  I  may 
In  silence  dote  myself  away. 

I  ask  no  pity,  Love,  from  thee. 

Nor  will  thy  justice  blame. 
So  that  thou  wilt  not  envy  me  '5 

The  glory  of  my  flame. 
Which  crowns  my  heart  whene'er  it  dies, 
In  that  it  falls  her  sacrifice. 


178  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 


Henry  Harrington,  in  Henry 
Lawe's  Airs  and  Dialogues, 
Third   Book,   1658. 

SONG. 

Trust  the  form  of  airy  things, 
Or  a  siren  when  she  sings, 
Trust  the  sly  hyena's  voice, 
Or  of  all  distrust  make  choice,  — 
And  believe  these  sooner  than 
Truth  in  women,  faith  in  men. 


John  Milton,  Poems  on  Several 
Occasions,  1673;  written  1658. 

SONNET. 

XXIII. 
ON    HIS    DECEASED    WIFE. 

Methought  I  saw  my  late  espoused  saint 
Brought  to  me  like  Alcestis  from  the  grave. 
Whom  Jove's  great  son  to  her  glad  husband  gave, 
Rescued  from  Death  by  force,  though  pale  and  faint. 
Mine,  as  whom  washed  from  spot  of  child-bed  taint 
Purification  in  the  Old  Law  did  save, 
And  such  as  yet  once  more  I  trust  to  have 
Full  sight  of  her  in  heaven  without  restraint. 
Came  vested  all  in  white,  pure  as  her  mind. 
Her  face  was  veiled;  yet  to  my  fancied  sight 
Love,  sweetness,  goodness,  in  her  person  shined 
So  clear  as  in  no  face  with  more  delight. 
But,  O  !  as  to  embrace  me  she  inclined, 
I  waked,  she  fled,  and  day  brought  back  my  night. 


THOMAS  FLATMAN.  179 


Thomas    Flatman,    Poems    and 
Songs,  1674;  written  1659. 


FOR    THOUGHTS. 

Thoughts  !  what  are  they  ? 
They  are  my  constant  friends, 
Who,  when  harsh  Fate  its  dull  brow  bends, 
Uncloud  me  with  a  smiling  ray. 
And  in  the  depth  of  midnight  force  a  day.  5 

When  I  retire  and  flee 
The  busy  throngs  of  company 
To  hug  myself  in  privacy, 
O  the  discourse  !  the  pleasant  talk 
'Twixt  us,  my  thoughts,  along  a  lonely  walk!  10 

You  (like  the  stupefying  wine 
The  dying  malefactors  sip 

With  trembling  lip, 
T'  abate  the  rigor  of  their  doom 
By  a  less  troublous  cut  to  their  long  home)  15 

Make  me  slight  crosses,  though  they  piled  up  lie, 
All  by  the  magic  of  an  ecstasy. 

Do  I  desire  to  see 
The  throne  and  awful  majesty 

Of  that  proud  one,  20 

Brother  and  uncle  to  the  stars  and  sun  ? 
These  can  conduct  me  where  such  toys  reside 
And  waft  me  'cross  the  main,  sans  wind  and  tide. 

Would  I  descry 
Those  radiant  mansions  'bove  the  sky,  25 

Invisible  to  mortal  eye. 

My  thoughts  can  eas'ly  lay 


180  SEVENTEENTH   CENTURY  LYRICS. 

A  shining  track  thereto, 

And  nimbly  flitting  go; 
Through  all  th'  eleven  orbs  can  shove  a  way.  3° 

My  thoughts  like  Jacob's  ladder  are 
A  most  angelic  thoroughfare. 

The  u^ealth  that  shines 
In  th'  oriental  mines; 
Those  sparkling  gems  which  Nature  keeps  35 

Within  her  cabinets,  the  deeps ; 

The  verdant  fields, 
Those  rarities  the  rich  world  yields, 
Huge  structures,  whose  each  gilded  spire 
Glisters  like  lightning,  which  while  men  admire  4° 

They  deem  the  neighboring  sky  on  fire  — 
These  can  I  dwell  upon  and  'live  mine  eyes 
With  millions  of  varieties. 
As  on  the  front  of  Pisgah  I 
Can  th'  Holy  Land  through  these  my  optics  spy.         45 

Contemn  we  then 
The  peevish  rage  of  men. 
Whose  violence  can  ne'er  divorce 
Our  mutual  amity. 

Or  lay  so  damned  a  curse  5° 

As  non-addresses  'twixt  my  thoughts  and  me  ; 

For  though  I  sigh  in  irons,  they 
Use  their  old  freedom,  readily  obey, 
And,  when  my  bosom  friends  desert  me,  stay. 

Come  then,  my  darlings,  I  '11  embrace  55 

My  privilege  ;  make  known 
The  high  prerogative  I  own. 
By  making  all  allurements  give  you  place, 


THOMAS  FLATMAN.  181 

Whose  sweet  society  to  me 
A  sanctuary  and  a  shield  shall  be  60 

'Gainst  the  full  quivers  of  my  Destiny. 


A  WISH. 

Not  to  the  hills  where  cedars  move 

Their  cloudy  heads;  not  to  the  grove 

Of  myrtles  in  th'  Elysian  shade, 

Nor  Tempe  which  the  poets  made, 

Not  on  the  spicy  mountains  play,  5 

Or  travel  to  Arabia, 

I  aim  not  at  the  careful  throne 

Which  Fortune's  darlings  sit  upon  : 

No,  no,  the  best  this  fickle  world  can  give 

Has  but  a  little,  little  time  to  live.  10 

But  let  me  soar,  O  let  me  fly 

Beyond  poor  earth's  benighted  eye, 

Beyond  the  pitch  swift  eagles  tower, 

Beyond  the  reach  of  human  power, 

Above  the  clouds,  above  the  way  15 

Whence  the  sun  darts  his  piercing  ray, 

O  let  me  tread  those  courts  that  are 

So  bright,  so  pure,  so  blest,  so  fair, 

As  neither  thou  nor  I  must  ever  know 

On  earth  :  't  is  thither,  thither  would  I  go.  20 


182  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Alexander  Brome,  Songs  and 
Other  Poems,  1661  ;  written  be- 
fore 1660. 

THE    RESOLVE. 

Tell  me  not  of  a  face  that 's  fair, 

Nor  lip  and  cheek  that 's  red, 
Nor  of  the  tresses  of  her  hair, 

Nor  curls  in  order  laid ;  ^ 

Nor  of  a  rare  seraphic  voice,  5 

That  like  an  angel  sings  ; 
Though,  if  I  were  to  take  my  choice, 

I  would  have  all  these  things. 
But  if  that  thou  wilt  have  me  love. 

And  it  must  be  a  she,  10 

The  only  argument  can  move 

Is,  that  she  will  love  me. 

The  glories  of  your  ladies  be 

But  metaphors  of  things, 
And  but  resemble  what  we  see  15 

Each  common  object  brings. 
Roses  out-red  their  lips  and  cheeks, 

Lilies  their  whiteness  stain  : 
What  fool  is  he  that  shadows  seeks, 

And  may  the  substance  gain  !  20 

Then  if  thou  'It  have  me  love  a  lass, 

Let  it  be  one  that 's  kind. 
Else  I  'm  a  servant  to  the  glass 

That 's  with  Canary  lined. 

A    MOCK    SONG. 

'T  IS  true  I  never  was  in  love ; 
But  now  I  mean  to  be. 


SIR    WILLIAM  DAVENANT.  183 

For  there  's  no  art 
Can  shield  a  heart 
From  love's  supremacy.  5 

Though  in  my  nonage  I  have  seen 

A  world  of  taking  faces, 
I  had  not  age  or  wit  to  ken 

Their  several  hidden  graces. 

Those  virtues  which,  though  thinly  set,  lo 

In  others  are  admired. 
In  thee  are  altogether  met, 

Which  make  thee  so  desired ; 

That  though  I  never  was  in  love. 

Nor  never  meant  to  be,  15 

Thyself  and  parts 
Above  my  arts 
Have  drawn  my  heart  to  thee. 


Sir  William  Davenant,  Poems 
on  Several  Occasions,  1672  ; 
written    before    1660. 

SONG, 

AGAINST    woman's    PRIDE. 

Why  dost  thou  seem  to  boast,  vainglorious  sun  ? 

Why  should  thy  bright  complexion  make  thee  proud  ? 
Think  but  how  often  since  thy  race  begun 

Thou  wert  eclipsed,  then  blush  behind  a  cloud. 

Or  why  look  you,  fair  Empress  of  the  night. 

So  big  upon  't,  when  you  at  full  appear  ? 
Remember  yours  is  but  a  borrowed  light. 

Then  shrink  with  paleness  in  your  giddy  sphere. 


184  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

If  neither  sun  nor  moon  can  justify 

Their  pride,  how  ill  it  women  then  befits 

That  are  on  earth  but  ignes  fatui 

That  lead  poor  men  to  wander  from  their  wits. 

SONG. 

The  lark  now  leaves  his  wat'ry  nest, 
And,  climbing,  shakes  his  dewy  wings, 

He  takes  this  window  for  the  east. 
And  to  implore  your  light,  he  sings: 

Awake,  awake,  the  morn  will  never  rise 

Till  she  can  dress  her  beauty  at  your  eyes. 

The  merchant  bows  unto  the  seaman's  star, 

The  ploughman  from  the  sun  his  season  takes; 

But  still  the  lover  wonders  what  they  are 
Who  look  for  day  before  his  mistress  wakes. 

Awake,  awake,  break  through  your  veils  of  lawn. 

Then  draw  your  curtains,  and  begin  the  dawn. 


Katherine  Philips,  Poems  by 
.  .  .  the  Matchless  Oritida,  1667  ; 
written  before  1664. 

AN    ANSWER    TO    ANOTHER  PERSUADING  A  LADY 
TO    MARRIAGE. 

Forbear,  bold  youth;  all's  heaven  here. 

And  what  do  you  aver. 
To  others  courtship  may  appear; 

'T  is  sacrilege  to  her. 

She  is  a  public  deity,  *  5 

And  were  't  not  very  odd 


S//?    WILLIAM  KILLEGREW.  185 

She  should  depose  herself  to  be 
A  petty  household  god  ? 

First  make  the  sun  in  private  shine 

And  bid  the  world  adieu,  lo 

That  so  he  may  his  beams  confine 

In  compliment  to  you. 

But  if  of  that  you  do  despair, 

Think  how  you  did  amiss 
To  strive  to  fix  her  beams,  which  are  15 

More  bright  and  large  than  his. 


Sir   William    Killegrew,  Se- 
lifidra,   1665;  acted  1664. 

SONG. 

Come,  come,  thou  glorious  object  of  my  sight, 
O  my  joy,  my  life,  my  own  delight  ! 

May  this  glad  minute  be 

Blessed  to  eternity  ! 
See  how  the  glimmering  tapers  of  the  sky  5 

Do  gaze,  and  wonder  at  our  constancy, 

How  they  crowd  to  behold 

What  our  arms  do  unfold  ! 
How  do  all  envy  our  felicities, 
And  grudge  the  triumphs  of  Selindra's  eyes  !       10 

How  Cynthia  seeks  to  shroud 

Her  crescent  in  yon  cloud ! 
Where  sad  night  puts  her  sable  mantle  on. 
Thy  light  mistaking,  hasteth  to  be  gone; 

Her  gloomy  shades  give  way,  15 

As  at  the  approach  of  day  ; 


186  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

And  all  the  planets  shrink,  in  doubt  to  be 
Eclipsed  by  a  brighter  deity. 

Look,  O  look ! 

How  the  small  20 

Lights  do  fall. 

And  adore 

What  before 
The  heavens  have  not  shown, 
Nor  their  godheads  known !  25 

Such  a  faith. 

Such  a  love 

As  may  move 

From  above 
To  descend,  and  remain  3° 

Amongst  mortals  again. 


Sir    George    Etheridge,  Love 
in  a  Tub,  1664. 

SONG. 

Ladies,  though  to  your  conquering  eyes 
Love  owes  his  chiefest  victories. 
And  borrows  those  bright  arms  from  you 
With  which  he  does  the  world  subdue ; 
Yet  you  yourselves  are  not  above 
The  empire  nor  the  griefs  of  love. 

Then  rack  not  lovers  with  disdain. 
Lest  love  on  you  revenge  their  pain ; 
You  are  not  free  because  you  're  fair, 
The  Boy  did  not  his  Mother  spare. 
Beauty's  but  an  offensive  dart; 
It  is  no  armor  for  the  heart. 


JOHN  DRYDEN.  187 

John  Dryden,  The  Indian 
Queen,  acted  1664. 

INCANTATION. 

You  twice  ten  hundred  deities, 

To  whom  we  daily  sacrifice ; 

You  powers  that  dwell  with  fate  below, 

And  see  what  men  are  doomed  to  do. 

Where  elements  in  discord  dwell ;  S 

Thou  god  of  sleep,  arise  and  tell 

Great  Zempoalla  what  strange  fate 

Must  on  her  dismal  vision  wait ! 

By  the  croaking  of  the  toad, 

In  their  caves  that  make  abode ;  10 

Earthy,  dun,  that  pants  for  breath. 

With  her  swelled  sides  full  of  death; 

By  the  crested  adders'  pride. 

That  along  the  clifts  do  glide; 

By  thy  visage  fierce  and  black;  15 

By  the  death's  head  on  thy  back; 

By  the  twisted  serpents  placed 

For  a  girdle  round  thy  waist ; 

By  the  hearts  of  gold  that  deck 

Thy  breast,  thy  shoulders,  and  thy  neck :  20 

From  thy  sleepy  mansion  rise, 

And  open  thy  unwilling  eyes. 

While  bubbling  springs  their  music  keep, 

That  use  to  lull  thee  in  thy  sleep. 


188  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

John  Dryden,  The  Indian  Em- 
peror, 1665. 

SONG. 

Ah,  fading  joy  !  how  quickly  art  thou  past ! 

Yet  we  thy  ruin  haste. 
As  if  the  cares  of  human  Hfe  were  few, 

We  seek  out  new  : 
And  follow  fate  that  does  too  fast  pursue.  5 

See  how  on  every  bough  the  birds  express 
In  their  sweet  notes  their  happiness. 
They  all  enjoy  and  nothing  spare. 

But  on  their  mother  nature  lay  their  care: 

Why  then  should  man,  the  lord  of  all  below,  10 

Such  troubles  choose  to  know 

As  none  of  all  his  subjects  undergo? 

Hark,  hark,  the  waters  fall,  fall,  fall. 
And  with  a  murmuring  sound 
Dash,  dash,  upon  the  ground,  15 

To  gentle  slumbers  call. 


Sir  Charles  Sedley,  The 
Mulberry  Garden,  1668. 

TO    A    VERY    YOUNG    LADY. 

Ah,  Chloris  !  that  I  now  could  sit 

As  unconcerned,  as  when 
Your  infant  beauty  could  beget 

No  pleasure  nor  no  pain. 

When  I  the  dawn  used  to  admire, 

And  praised  the  coming  day, 
I  little  thought  the  growing  fire 

Must  take  my  rest  away. 


SIR    CHARLES  S ED  LEY.  189 

Your  charms  in  harmless  childhood  lay, 

Like  metals  in  the  mine ;  lo 

Age  from  no  face  took  more  away, 
Than  youth  concealed  in  thine. 

But  as  your  charms  insensibly 

To  their  perfections  pressed. 
Fond  love  as  unperceived  did  fly,  15 

And  in  my  bosom  rest. 

My  passion  with  your  beauty  grew, 

And  Cupid  at  my  heart, 
Still,  as  his  mother  favored  you, 

Threw  a  new  flaming  dart.  20 

Each  gloried  in  their  wanton  part : 

To  make  a  lover,  he 
Employed  the  utmost  of  his  art ; 

To  make  a  beauty,  she. 

Though  now  I  slowly  bend  to  love,  25 

Uncertain  of  my  fate, 
If  your  fair  self  my  chains  approve, 

I  shall  my  freedom  hate. 

Lovers,  like  dying  men,  may  well 

At  first  disordered  be  ;  30 

Since  none  alive  can  truly  tell 

What  fortune  they  might  see. 

Sir  Charles  Sedley,  Plays, 
Poems,  Songs,  etc.,  1702;  writ- 
ten between  i 668-1 687. 

SONG. 
Not,  Celia,  that  I  juster  am 

Or  better  than  the  rest ; 
For  I  would  change  each  hour  like  them, 

Were  not  my  heart  at  rest. 


190  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

But  I  am  tied  to  very  thee  5 

By  every  thought  I  have ; 
Thy  face  I  only  care  to  see, 

Thy  heart  I  only  crave. 

All  that  in  woman  is  adored 

In  thy  dear  self  I  find  ;  lo 

For  the  whole  sex  can  but  afford 

The  handsome  and  the  kind. 

Why  then  should  I  seek  further  store, 

And  still  make  love  anew? 
When  change  itself  can  give  no  more  15 

'T  is  easy  to  be  true. 

LOVE   STILL   HAS  SOMETHING    OF   THE   SEA. 

Love  still  has  something  of  the  sea, 
From  whence  his  mother  rose  ; 

No  time  his  slaves  from  love  can  free, 
Nor  give  their  thoughts  repose. 

They  are  becalmed  in  clearest  days,  5 

And  in  rough  weather  tossed ; 
They  wither  under  cold  delays. 

Or  are  in  tempests  lost. 

One  while  they  seem  to  touch  the  port. 

Then  straight  into  the  main  10 

Some  angry  wind  in  cruel  sport 
The  vessel  drives  again. 

At  first  Disdain  and  Pride  they  fear. 
Which,  if  they  chance  to  'scape. 

Rivals  and  Falsehood  soon  appear  15 

In  a  more  dreadful  shape. 


S/J^    CHARLES  S ED  LEY.  191 

By  such  degrees  to  joy  they  come, 

And  are  so  long  withstood, 
So  slowly  they  receive  the  sum, 

It  hardly  does  them  good.  20 

'T  is  cruel  to  prolong  a  pain, 

And  to  defer  a  joy. 
Believe  me,  gentle  Celemene, 

Offends  the  winged  boy. 

An  hundred  thousand  oaths  your  fears  25 

Perhaps  would  not  remove, 
And  if  I  gazed  a  thousand  years 

I  could  no  deeper  love. 

PHYLLIS  KNOTTING. 

"Hears  not  my  Phyllis  how  the  birds 

Their  feathered  mates  salute  ? 
They  tell  their  passion  in  their  words  : 
Must  I  alone  be  mute  ?  " 

Phyllis,  without  frown  or  smile,  5 

Sat  and  knotted  all  the  while. 

"  The  god  of  love  in  thy  bright  eyes 

Does  like  a  tyrant  reign  ; 
But  in  thy  heart  a  child  he  lies 

Without  his  dart  or  flame."  10 

Phyllis,  without  frown  or  smile. 
Sat  and  knotted  all  the  while. 

"  So  many  months  in  silence  past. 

And  yet  in  raging  love, 
Might  well  deserve  one  word  at  last  15 

My  passion  should  approve." 
Phyllis,  without  frown  or  smile. 
Sat  and  knotted  all  the  while. 


192  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

"  Must  then  your  faithful  swain  expire 

And  not  one  look  obtain, 
Which  he  to  soothe  his  fond  desire 
Might  pleasingly  explain  ?  " 
Phyllis,  without  frown  or  smile, 
Sat  and  knotted  all  the  while ! 


PHYLLIS  IS  MY  ONLY  JOY. 

Phyllis  is  my  only  joy, 

Faithless  as  the  winds  or  seas, 

Sometimes  coming,  sometimes  coy, 

Yet  she  never  fails  to  please ; 

If  with  a  frown  5 

I  am  cast  down, 
Phyllis  smiling 
And  beguiling 
Makes  me  happier  than  before. 

Though  alas  !  too  late  I  find  lo 

Nothing  can  her  fancy  fix, 
Yet  the  moment  she  is  kind 
I  forgive  her  all  her  tricks ; 
Which  though  I  see, 

I  can't  get  free.  15 

She  deceiving, 
I  believing, 
What  need  lovers  wish  for  more? 

A    SONG. 

Phyllis,  men  say  that  all  my  vows 

Are  to  thy  fortune  paid  : 
Alas  !   my  heart  he  little  knows 

Who  thinks  my  love  a  trade. 


JOHN  DRYDEN.  193 

Were  I  of  all  these  woods  the  lord,  S 

One  berry  from  thy  hand 
More  real  pleasure  would  afford 

Than  all  my  large  command. 

My  humble  love  has  learned  to  live 

On  what  the  nicest  maid,  lo 

Without  a  conscious  blush,  may  give 

Beneath  the  myrtle  shade. 


John    Dryden,    Tyrannic    Love, 
1670;  acted  1668-69. 

YOU    PLEASING    DREAMS    OF    LOVE. 

You  pleasing  dreams  of  love  and  sweet  delight, 
Appear  before  this  slumbering  virgin's  sight; 
Soft  visions  set  her  free 
From  mournful  piety. 
Let  her  sad  thoughts  from  heaven  retire. 
And  let  the  melancholy  love 
Of  those  remoter  joys  above 
Give  place  to  your  more  sprightly  fire. 
Let  purling  streams  be  in  her  fancy  seen, 
And  flowery  meads,  and  vales  of  cheerful  green. 
And  in  the  midst  of  deathless  groves 
Soft  sighing  wishes  lie. 
And  smiling  hopes  fast  by. 
And  just  beyond  them  ever-laughing  loves. 


1 94  S£  VENTEENTH  CENTUR  Y  L  VRICS. 


John  Dryden,  An  Evening's  Loz'e, 
1671. 

YOU    CHARMED    ME    NOT    WITH    THAT 
FAIR    FACE. 

You  charmed  me  not  with  that  fair  face, 

Though  it  was  all  divine  : 
To  be  another's  is  the  grace 

That  makes  me  wish  you  mine. 
The  gods  and  fortune  take  their  part  5 

Who,  like  young  monarchs,  fight, 
And  boldly  dare  invade  that  heart 

Which  is  another's  right. 
First,  mad  with  hope,  we  undertake 

To  pull  up  every  bar  ;  10 

But,  once  possessed,  we  faintly  make 

A  dull  defensive  war. 
Now,  every  friend  is  turned  a  foe, 

In  hope  to  get  our  store  : 
And  passion  makes  us  cowards  grow,  15 

Which  made  us  brave  before. 


John  Wilmot,  Earl  of  Rochester, 
Poems  on  Several  Occasions,  1680; 
date  of  writing  uncertain. 

A    SONG. 

Absent  from  thee  I  languish  still. 
Then  ask  me  not,  '  when  I  return  .? ' 

The  straying  fool  't  will  plainly  kill 
To  wish  all  day,  all  night  to  mourn. 


ROCHESTER.  195 

Dear,  from  thine  arms  then  let  me  fly,  S 

That  my  fantastic  mind  may  prove 
The  torments  it  deserves  to  try, 

That  tears  my  fixed  heart  from  my  love. 

When,  wearied  with  a  world  of  woe. 

To  thy  safe  bosom  I  retire,  lo 

Where  love,  and  peace,  and  truth  does  flow. 

May  I,  contented,  there  expire. 

Lest  once  more  wandering  from  that  heaven, 

I  fall  on  some  base  heart  unblest. 
Faithless  to  thee,  false,  unforgiven,  15 

And  lose  my  everlasting  rest. 

LOVE    AND    LIFE. 

All  my  past  life  is  mine  no  more, 

The  flying  hours  are  gone, 
Like  transitory  dreams  given  o'er, 
Whose  images  are  kept  in  store 

By  memory  alone.  5 

The  time  that  is  to  come  is  not : 

How  can  it  then  be  mine  ? 
The  present  moment 's  all  my  lot, 
And  that,  as  fast  as  it  is  got, 

Phyllis,  is  only  thine,  10 

Then  talk  not  of  inconstancy. 

False  hearts,  and  broken  vows, 
If  I,  by  miracle,  can  be 
This  live-long  minute  true  to  thee, 

'Tis  all  that  heaven  allows.  15 


196  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 


UPON    DRINKING    IN    A    BOWL. 

Vulcan,  contrive  me  such  a  cup 

As  Nestor  used  of  old  ; 
Show  all  thy  skill  to  trim  it  up, 

Damask  it  round  with  gold. 

Make  it  so  large  that,  filled  with  sack  5 

Up  to  the  swelling  brim. 
Vast  toasts  on  the  delicious  lake. 

Like  ships  at  sea  may  swim. 

Engrave  not  battle  on  his  cheek. 

With  war  I  've  naught  to  do  :  lo 

I  'm  none  of  those  that  took  Maestrick, 

Nor  Yarmouth  leaguer  knew. 

Let  it  no  name  of  planets  tell, 

Fixed  stars  or  constellations  ; 
For  I  am  no  Sir  Sidrophel,  15 

Nor  none  of  his  relations. 

But  carve  thereon  a  spreading  vine. 

Then  add  two  lovely  boys  ; 
Their  limbs  in  amorous  folds  entwine. 

The  type  of  future  joys.  20 

Cupid  and  Bacchus  my  saints  are. 

May  Drink  and  Love  still  reign ! 
With  wine  I  wash  away  my  care, 

And  then  to  love  again. 


ROCHESTER.  197 


CONSTANCY. 

I  CANNOT  change,  as  others  do, 

Though  you  unjustly  scorn. 
Since  that  poor  swain  tliat  sighs  for  you, 

For  you  alone  was  born  ; 
No,  Phyllis,  no,  your  heart  to  move  5 

A  surer  way  I  '11  try, 
And  to  revenge  my  slighted  love, 

Will  still  love  on,  and  die. 

When,  killed  with  grief,  Amyntas  lies, 

And  you  to  mind  shall  call  lo 

The  sighs  that  now  unpitied  rise. 

The  tears  that  vainly  fall : 
That  welcome  hour  that  ends  his  smart, 

Will  then  begin  your  pain, 
For  such  a  faithful  tender  heart  15 

Can  never  break  in  vain, 

A    SONG. 

My  dear  mistress  has  a  heart 

Soft  as  those  kind  looks  she  gave  me ; 
When  with  love's  resistless  art. 

And  her  eyes,  she  did  enslave  me. 
But  her  constancy  's  so  weak  5 

She  's  so  wild  and  apt  to  wander; 
That  my  jealous  heart  would  break. 

Should  we  live  one  day  asunder. 

Melting  joys  about  her  move, 

Killing  pleasures,  wounding  blisses  ;  10 

She  can  dress  her  eyes  in  love. 

And  her  lips  can  arm  with  kisses. 


198  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Angels  listen  when  she  speaks, 

She  's  my  delight,  all  mankind's  wonder; 

But  my  jealous  heart  would  break,  15 

Should  we  live  one  day  asunder. 


Thomas  Flatman,  Poems  and 
Songs,  1674 ;  date  of  writing 
uncertain. 

THE    DEFIANCE. 

Be  not  too  proud,  imperious  dame. 

Your  charms  are  transitory  things, 
May  melt,  while  you  at  heaven  aim, 
Like  Icarus's  waxen  wings  ; 
And  you  a  part  in  his  misfortune  bear,  5 

Drowned  in  a  briny  ocean  of  despair. 

You  think  your  beauties  are  above 

The  poet's  brain  and  painter's  hand, 
As  if  upon  the  throne  of  love 

You  only  should  the  world  command  :  '5 

Yet  know,  though  you  presume  your  title  true. 
There  are  pretenders  that  will  rival  you. 

There  's  an  experienced  rebel.  Time, 

And  in  his  squadron  's  Poverty ; 
There  's  Age  that  brings  along  with  him  '5 

A  terrible  artillery : 
And  if  against  all  these  thou  keep'st  thy  crown, 
Th'  usurper  Death  will  make  thee  lay  it  down. 


SIR    GEORGE   ETHERIDGE.  199 


Sir  George  Etheridge,  A  Col- 
lection of  Poems,  1 701  ;  written 
before  1675. 

TO    A    LADY, 
ASKING    HOW    LONG    HE    WOULD    LOVE    HER. 

It  is  not,  Celia,  in  our  power 

To  say  how  long  our  love  will  last ; 

It  may  be  we  within  this  hour 

May  lose  those  joys  we  now  do  taste  : 

The  blessed  that  immortal  be. 

From  change  in  love  are  only  free. 

Then  since  we  mortal  lovers  are, 

Ask  not  how  long  our  love  may  last ; 

But  while  it  does,  let  us  take  care 

Each  minute  be  with  pleasure  passed: 

Were  it  not  madness  to  deny 

To  live  because  we  're  sure  to  die? 


A   SONG. 

Ye  happy  swains  whose  hearts  are  free 

From  Love's  imperial  chain, 
Take  warning  and  be  taught  by  me 

T'  avoid  th'  enchanting  pain  ; 
Fatal  the  wolves  to  trembling  flocks, 

Fierce  winds  to  blossoms  prove, 
To  careless  seamen,  hidden  rocks, 

To  human  quiet,  love. 

Fly  the  fair  sex,  if  bliss  you  prize ; 
The  snake 's  beneath  the  flower : 


200  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Whoever  gazed  on  beauteous  eyes, 

That  tasted  quiet  more  ? 
How  faithless  is  the  lovers'  joy! 

How  constant  is  their  care 
The  kind  with  falsehood  to  destroy,  15 

The  cruel,  with  despair  ! 


Aphara  BehN,  Abdelazer,  or  the 
Moor's  Revenge,  iGyj  ;  acted 
1676. 

SONG. 

Love  in  fantastic  triumph  sat, 

Whilst  bleeding  hearts  around  him  flowed, 
For  whom  fresh  pains  he  did  create. 

And  strange  tyrannic  power  he  showed  ; 
From  thy  bright  eyes  he  took  his  fires,  5 

Which  round  about  in  sport  he  hurled ; 
But  't  was  from  mine  he  took  desires 

Enough  t'  undo  the  amorous  world. 

From  me  he  took  his  sighs  and  tears. 

From  thee  his  pride  and  cruelty ;  10 

From  me  his  languishments  and  fears, 

And  every  killing  dart  from  thee  : 
Thus  thou  and  I  the  god  have  armed. 

And  set  him  up  a  deity, 
But  my  poor  heart  alone  is  harmed,  15 

Whilst  thine  the  victor  is,  and  free. 


JOHN  DRYDEN.  201 


John  Dryden,    Troilus  and 
Cressida,  1679. 

CAN  LIFE  BE  A    BLESSING? 

Can  life  be  a  blessing, 
Or  worth  the  possessing, 
Can  life  be  a  blessing,  if  love  were  away  ? 

Ah,  no  !  though  our  love  all  night  keep  us  waking, 
And  though  he  torment  us  with  cares  all  the  day. 

Yet  he  sweetens,  he  sweetens  our  pains  in  the  taking; 
There  's  an  hour  at  the  last,  there  's  an  hour  to  repay. 

In  every  possessing, 
The  ravishing  blessing, 
In  every  possessing,  the  fruit  of  our  pain, 
Poor  lovers  forget  long  ages  of  anguish, 
Whate'er  they  have  suffered  and  done  to  obtain  ; 

'Tis  a  pleasure,  a  pleasure  to  sigh  and  to  languish. 
When  we  hope,  when  we  hope  to  be  happy  again. 


Charles  Sackville,  Earl  of 
Dorset,  A  New  Miscellany  of 
Poems  on  Several  Occasions, 
1701  ;  written  before  1680. 

ON    A    LADY  WHO    FANCIED    HERSELF   A  BEAUTY. 

Dorinda's  sparkling  wit  and  eyes, 

United  cast  too  fierce  a  light, 
Which  blazes  high,  but  quickly  dies, 

Pains  not  the  heart,  but  hurts  the  sight. 


202  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Love  is  a  calmer,  gentler  joy, 

Smooth  are  his  looks,  and  soft  his  pace : 
Her  Cupid  is  a  blackguard  boy, 

That  runs  his  link  full  in  your  face. 


The  same  in  Works  of  Celebrated 
Atttkors,  1750 ;  written  before 
16S0. 

SONG. 

Phyllis,  for  shame  !  let  us  improve 

A  thousand  different  ways 
Those  few  short  moments  snatched  by  love 

From  many  tedious  days. 

If  you  want  courage  to  despise  5 

The  censure  of  the  grave, 
Though  Love's  a  tyrant  in  your  eyes 

Your  heart  is  but  a  slave. 

My  love  is  full  of  noble  pride, 

Nor  can  it  e'er  submit  10 

To  let  that  fop,  Discretion,  ride 

In  triumph  over  it. 

False  friends  I  have,  as  well  as  you. 

Who  daily  counsel  me 
Fame  and  ambition  to  pursue,  15 

And  leave  off  loving  thee. 

But  when  the  least  regard  I  show 

To  fools  who  thus  advise. 
May  I  be  dull  enough  to  grow 

Most  miserably  wise  !  20 


JOHN  DRYDEN.  203 


John    Dryden,    The   Spanish 
Friar,    1 6S  i . 

FAREWELL,   UNGRATEFUL    TRAITOR. 

Farewell,  ungrateful  traitor! 

Farewell,  my  perjured  swain  ! 
Let  never  injured  creature 

Believe  a  man  again. 
The  pleasure  of  possessing  5 

Surpasses  all  expressing. 
But  'tis  too  short  a  blessing, 

And  love  too  long  a  pain. 

'T  is  easy  to  deceive  us. 

In  pity  of  your  pain ;  lo 

But  when  we  love,  you  leave  us 

To  rail  at  you  in  vain. 
Before  we  have  descried  it, 
There  is  no  bliss  beside  it. 
But  she,  that  once  has  tried  it,  15 

Will  never  love  again. 

The  passion  you  pretended. 

Was  only  to  obtain; 
But  when  the  charm  is  ended, 

The  charmer  you  disdain.  20 

Your  love  by  ours  we  measure. 
Till  we  have  lost  our  treasure ; 
But  dying  is  a  pleasure. 

When  living  is  a  pain. 


204  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 


John    Dryden,    The   Duke  of 
Guise,  1683  ;  acted  16S2. 

SONG. 

BETWIXT  A  SHEPHERD  AND  A  SHEPHERDESS. 

Shepherdess. 

Tell  me,  Thyrsis,  tell  your  anguish, 
Why  you  sigh,  and  why  you  languish; 
When  the  nymph  whom  you  adore 
Grants  the  blessing 

Of  possessing,  5 

What  can  love  and  I  do  more  ? 

Shepherd. 

Think  it 's  love  beyond  all  measure 
Makes  me  faint  away  with  pleasure  ; 
Strength  of  cordial  may  destroy, 

And  the  blessing  10 

Of  possessing 
Kills  me  with  excess  of  joy. 

Shepherdess. 

Thyrsis,  how  can  I  believe  you  ? 
But  confess,  and  I  '11  forgive  you  : 

Men  are  false,  and  so  are  you.  15 

Never  Nature 
Framed  a  creature 
To  enjoy,  and  yet  be  true. 

Shepherd. 

Mine's  a  flame  beyond  expiring, 

Still  possessing,  still  desiring,  20 


JOHN  NORKIS.  205 

Fit  for  Love's  imperial  crown  ; 

Ever  shining 

And  refining 
Still  the  more  't  is  melted  down. 

Chorus. 

Mine's  a  flame  beyond  expiring,  25 

Still  possessing,  still  desiring, 
Fit  for  Love's  imperial  crown ; 
Ever  shining 
And  refining 
Still  the  more  't  is  melted  down.  30 


John     Norris,  Poems   and  Dis- 
courses,  1684. 

HYMN    TO    DARKNESS. 

Hail,  thou  most  sacred  venerable  thing! 

What  Muse  is  worthy  thee  to  sing .? 
Thee,  from  whose  pregnant  universal  womb 
All  things,  even  Light,  thy  rival,  first  did  come. 
What  dares  he  not  attempt  that  sings  of  thee, 

Thou  first  and  greatest  mystery  ? 
Who  can  the  secrets  of  thy  essence  tell .? 
Thou,  like  the  light  of  God,  art  inaccessible. 

Before  great  Love  this  monument  did  raise. 

This  ample  theatre  of  praise ; 
Before  the  folding  circles  of  the  sky 
Were  tuned  by  him  who  is  all  harmony ; 
Before  the  morning  stars  their  hymn  began 

Before  the  council  held  for  man  ; 


206  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Before  the  birth  of  either  Time  or  Place  1 5 

Thou  reign'st  unquestioned  monarch  in  the  empty  space. 

Thy  native  lot  thou  didst  to  Light  resign, 

But  still  half  of  the  globe  is  thine. 
Here  with  a  quiet,  and  yet  awful  hand, 
Like  the  best  emperors,  thou  dost  command.  20 

To  thee  the  stars  above  their  brightness  owe, 

And  mortals  their  repose  below. 
To  thy  protection  Fear  and  Sorrow  flee 
And  those  that  weary  are  of  light  iind  rest  in  thee. 

Though  light  and  glory  be  th'  Almighty's  throne,  25 

Darkness  is  his  pavilion. 
From  that  his  radiant  beauty,  but  from  thee 
He  has  his  terror  and  bis  majesty. 
Thus  when  he  first  proclaimed  his  sacred  law, 

And  would  his  rebel  subjects  awe,  3° 

Like  princes  on  some  great  solemnity, 
H'  appeared  in  's  robes  of  state  and  clad  himself  with  thee. 

The  blest  above  do  thy  sweet  umbrage  prize. 

When,  cloyed  with  light,  they  veil  their  eyes  ; 
The  vision  of  the  Deity  is  made  35 

More  sweet  and  beatific  by  thy  shade. 
But  we,  poor  tenants  of  this  orb  below 

Don't  here  thy  excellencies  know. 
Till  death  our  understandings  does  improve. 
And  then  our  wiser  ghosts  thy  silent  night-walks  love.        4° 

But  thee  I  now  admire,  thee  would  I  choose 

For  my  religion,  or  my  Muse. 
'T  is  hard  to  tell  whether  thy  reverend  shade 
Has  more  good  votaries  or  poets  made, 


CHARLES   COTTON.  207 

From  thy  dark  caves  were  inspirations  given,  45 

And  from  thick  groves  went  vows  to  Heaven. 
Hail  then,  thou  Muse's  and  devotion's  spring ! 
'Tis  just  we  should  adore,  'tis  just  we  should  thee  sing. 


Charles  Cotton,  Poems  on  Scleral 
Occasions,  1689;  written  before 
1687. 

THE    MORNING    QUATRAINS. 

The  cock  has  crowed  an  hour  ago, 
'Tis  time  we  now  dull  sleep  forgo; 
Tired  nature  is  by  sleep  redressed 
And  labor  's  overcome  by  rest. 

We  have  out-done  the  work  of  night;  S 

'T  is  time  we  rise  t'  attend  the  light, 
And  ere  he  shall  his  beams  display, 
To  plot  new  business  for  the  day. 

None  but  the  slothful  or  unsound 

Are  by  the  sun  in  feathers  found,  10 

Nor,  without  rising  with  the  sun. 

Can  the  world's  business  e'er  be  done. 

Hark,  hark  !  the  watchful  chanticler 

Tells  us  the  day's  bright  harbinger 

Peeps  o'er  the  eastern  hills,  to  awe  15 

And  warn  night's  sov'reign  to  withdraw. 

The  morning  curtains  now  are  drawn. 

And  now  appears  the  blushing  dawn  ; 

Aurora  has  her  roses  shed. 

To  strew  the  way  Sol's  steeds  must  tread.  20 


20S  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Xanthus  and  ^^thon  harnessed  are 
To  roll  away  the  burning  car, 
And,  snorting  flame,  impatient  bear 
The  dressing  of  the  charioteer. 

The  sable  cheeks  of  sullen  Night  25 

Are  streaked  with  rosy  streams  of  light, 
Whilst  she  retires  away  in  fear 
To  shade  the  other  hemisphere. 

The  merry  lark  now  takes  her  wings. 

And  longed-for  day's  loud  welcome  sings,  3° 

Mounting  her  body  out  of  sight, 

As  if  she  meant  to  meet  the  light. 

Now  doors  and  windows  are  unbarred, 
Each-where  are  cheerful  voices  heard, 
And  round  about  "  good-morrows  "  fly,  35 

As  if  day  taught  humanity. 

The  chimneys  now  to  smoke  begin. 

And  the  old  wife  sits  down  to  spin. 

Whilst  Kate,  taking  her  pail,  does  trip 

Mull's  swoU'n  and  straddling  paps  to  strip.  40 

Vulcan  now  makes  his  anvil  ring, 
Dick  whistles  loud  and  Maud  doth  sing. 
And  Silvio  with  his  bugle  horn 
Winds  an  imprime  unto  the  morn. 

Now  through  the  morning  doors  behold  45 

Phoebus  arrayed  in  burning  gold, 
Lashing  his  fiery  steeds,  displays 
His  warm  and  all-enlight'ning  rays. 


CHARLES  COTTON.  209 

Now  each  one  to  his  work  repairs, 

All  that  have  hands  are  laborers,  5° 

And  manufactures  of  each  trade 

By  op'ning  shops  are  open  laid. 

Hob  yokes  his  oxen  to  the  team. 

The  angler  goes  unto  the  stream, 

The  woodman  to  the  purlieus  hies,  55 

The  lab'ring  bees  to  load  their  thighs. 

Fair  Amaryllis  drives  her  flocks. 

All  night  safe  folded  from  the  fox. 

To  flow'ry  downs,  where  Colin  stays 

To  court  her  with  his  roundelays.  6o 

The  traveller  now  leaves  his  inn 
A  new  day's  journey  to  begin. 
As  he  would  post  it  with  the  day. 
And  early  rising  makes  good  way. 

The  slick-faced  schoolboy  satchel  takes,  65 

And  with  slow  pace  small  riddance  makes; 
For  why,  the  haste  we  make,  you  know. 
To  knowledge  and  to  virtue  's  slow. 

The  fore-horse  jingles  on  the  road. 

The  waggoner  lugs  on  his  load,  7° 

The  field  with  busy  people  snies. 

And  city  rings  with  various  cries. 

The  world  is  now  a  busy  swarm. 

All  doing  good,  or  doing  harm  ; 

But  let 's  take  heed  our  acts  be  true,  75 

For  heaven's  eye  sees  all  we  do. 


210  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

None  can  that  piercing  sight  evade, 

It  penetrates  the  darkest  shade, 

And  sin,  though  it  should  'scape  the  eye, 

Would  be  discovered  by  the  cry.  80 

RONDEAU. 

Forbear,  fair  Phyllis,  O  forbear 

Those  deadly  killing  frowns,  and  spare 

A  heart  so  loving,  and  so  true. 

By  none  to  be  subdued,  but  you, 

Who  my  poor  life's  sole  princess  are.  5 

You  only  can  create  my  care ; 

But  offend  you,  I  all  things  dare. 

Then,  lest  your  cruelty  you  rue. 

Forbear ; 
And  lest  you  kill  that  heart,  beware,  10 

To  which  there  is  some  pity  due. 
If  but  because  I  humbly  sue. 
Your  anger,  therefore,  sweetest  fair, 
Though  mercy  in  your  sex  is  rare, 

Forbear.  15 

SONG. 

Why,  dearest,  shouldst  thou  weep  when  I  relate 

The  story  of  my  woe  ? 
Let  not  the  swarthy  mists  of  my  black  fate 

O'ercast  thy  beauty  so  : 
For  each  rich  pearl  lost  on  that  score,  5 

Adds  to  mischance,  and  wounds  your  servant  more. 

Quench  not  those  stars  that  to  my  bliss  should  guide  : 
O  spare  that  precious  tear  ! 


CHARLES   COTTON.  211 

Nor  let  those  drops  unto  a  deluge  tide, 

To  drown  your  beauty  there  ;  lo 

That  cloud  of  sorrow  makes  it  night, 
You  lose  your  lustre,  but  the  world  its  light. 


LES    AMOURS. 

She  that  I  pursue,  still  flies  me ; 

Her  that  follows  me,  I  fly; 
She  that  I  still  court,  denies  me ; 

Her  that  courts  me,  I  deny : 
Thus  in  one  web  we  're  subtly  wove,  5 

And  yet  we  mutiny  in  love. 

She  that  can  save  me,  must  not  do  it ; 

She  that  cannot,  fain  would  do  ; 
Her  love  is  bound,  yet  I  still  woo  it ; 

Hers  by  love  is  bound  in  woe :  10 

Yet  how  can  I  of  love  complain. 
Since  I  have  love  for  love  again  ? 

This  is  thy  work,  imperious  Child, 

Thine  's  this  labyrinth  of  love. 
That  thus  hast  our  desires  beguiled,  15 

Nor  seest  how  thine  arrows  rove. 
Then  prithee,  to  compose  this  stir, 
Make  her  love  me,  or  me  love  her. 

But,  if  irrevocable  are 

Those  keen  shafts  that  wound  us  so,  20 

Let  me  prevail  with  thee  thus  far. 

That  thou  once  more  take  thy  bow; 
Wound  her  hard  heart,  and  by  my  troth, 
I  '11  be  content  to  take  them  both. 


212  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

SONG. 

Join  once  again,  my  Celia,  join 
Thy  rosy  lips  to  these  of  mine, 

Which,  though  they  be  not  such, 
Are  full  as  sensible  of  bliss. 
That  is,  as  soon  can  taste  a  kiss,  5 

As  thine  of  softer  touch. 

Each  kiss  of  thine  creates  desire, 

Thy  odorous  breath  inflames  love's  fire, 

And  wakes  the  sleeping  coal : 
Such  a  kiss  to  be  I  find  lo 

The  conversation  of  the  mind. 

And  whisper  of  the  soul. 

Thanks,  sweetest,  now  thou  'rt  perfect  grown, 
For  by  this  last  kiss  i  'm  undone  ; 

Thou  breathest  silent  darts,  15 

Henceforth  each  little  touch  will  prove 
A  dangerous  stratagem  in  love, 

And  thou  wilt  blow  up  hearts. 

TO    CELIA. 

ODE. 

When,  Celia,  must  my  old  days  set. 

And  my  young  morning  rise 
In  beams  of  joy,  so  bright,  as  yet 

Ne'er  blessed  a  lover's  eyes  ? 
My  state  is  more  advanced  than  when  5 

I  first  attempted  thee; 
I  sued  to  be  a  servant  then. 

But  now  to  be  made  free. 


CHARLES   COTTON.  213 

I  've  served  my  time,  faithful  and  true, 

Expecting  to  be  placed  lo 

In  happy  freedom,  as  my  due. 

To  all  the  joys  thou  hast : 
111  husbandry  in  love  is  such 

A  scandal  to  love's  power. 
We  ought  not  to  mispend  so  much  15 

As  one  poor  short-lived  hour. 

Yet  think  not,  sweet,  I  'm  weary  grown, 

That  I  pretend  such  haste, 
Since  none  to  surfeit  e'er  was  known 

Before  he  had  a  taste  ;  20 

My  infant  love  could  humbly  wait, 

When  young  it  scarce  knew  how 
To  plead  ;  but  grown  to  man's  estate 

He  is  impatient  now. 

LAURA    SLEEPING. 

Winds,  whisper  gently  whilst  she  sleeps, 
And  fan  her  with  your  cooling  wings. 

Whilst  she  her  drops  of  beauty  weeps 
From  pure  and  yet  unrivalled  springs. 

Glide  over  beauty's  field,  her  face,  S 

To  kiss  her  lip  and  cheek  be  bold. 
But  with  a  calm  and  stealing  pace. 

Neither  too  rude  nor  yet  too  cold. 

Play  in  her  beams  and  crisp  her  hair 

With  such  a  gale  as  wings  soft  love,  10 

And  with  so  sweet,  so  rich  an  air 

As  breathes  from  the  Arabian  grove. 


214  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

A  breath  as  hushed  as  lover's  sigh, 
Or  that  unfolds  the  morning  door; 

Sweet  as  the  winds  that  gently  fly  15 

To  sweep  the  spring's  enamelled  floor. 

Murmur  soft  music  to  her  dreams, 

That  pure  and  unpolluted  run, 
Like  to  the  new-born  crystal  streams 

Under  the  bright  enamoured  sun.  20 

But  when  she  waking  shall  display 

Her  light,  retire  within  your  bar. 
Her  breath  is  life,  her  eyes  are  day, 

And  all  mankind  her  creatures  are. 


Aphara  Behn,  The  Lover's 
Watch,  1686. 

THE    CHARM    FOR    CONSTANCY. 

Iris,  to  keep  my  soul  entire  and  true. 
It  thinks  each  moment  of  the  day  on  you  ; 
And  when  a  charming  face  I  see 

That  does  all  other  eyes  incline. 
It  has  no  influence  on  me  : 

I  think  it  e'en  deformed  to  thine. 
My  eyes,  my  soul,  and  sense  regardless  move 
To  all  but  the  dear  object  of  my  love. 


APHARA    BE/IN.  215 


Aphara    Behn,    The   Lucky 
Chance,  1687. 

O    LOVE    THAT    STRONGER    ART    THAN    WINE. 

O  LOVE !  that  stronger  art  than  wine, 

Pleasing  delusion,  witchery  divine. 

Wont  to  be  prized  above  all  wealth, 

Disease  that  has  more  joys  than  health  : 

Though  we  blaspheme  thee  in  our  pain,  5 

And  of  thy  tyranny  complain, 

We  all  are  bettered  by  thy  reign. 

What  reason  never  can  bestow 

We  to  this  useful  passion  owe : 

Love  wakes  the  dull  from  sluggish  ease,  10 

And  learns  a  clown  the  art  to  please, 

Humbles  the  vain,  kindles  the  cold. 

Makes  misers  free,  and  cowards  bold ; 

'T  is  he  reforms  the  sot  from  drink. 

And  teaches  airy  fops  to  think.  15 

When  full  brute  appetite  is  fed. 

And  choked  the  glutton  lies  and  dead. 

Thou  new  spirits  dost  dispense 

And  finest  the  gross  delights  of  sense  : 

Virtue's  unconquerable  aid  20 

That  against  Nature  can  persuade. 

And  makes  a  roving  mind  retire 

Within  the  bounds  of  just  desire  ; 

Cheerer  of  age,  youth's  kind  unrest, 

And  half  the  heaven  of  the  blest  !  25 


216  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 


Edmund  Waller,  The  Second 
Part  of  Mr.  Waller'' s  Poems, 
1690  ;  written  after  16S6. 

OF    THE    LAST    VERSES    IN    THE    BOOK. 

When  we  for  age  could  neither  read  nor  write, 

The  subject  made  us  able  to  indite ; 

The  soul,  with  nobler  resolutions  decked, 

The  body  stooping,  does  herself  erect. 

No  mortal  parts  are  requisite  to  raise  5 

Her  that,  unbodied,  can  her  Maker  praise. 

The  seas  are  quiet  when  the  winds  give  o'er; 

So,  calm  are  we  when  passions  are  no  more  ! 

For  then  we  know  how  vain  it  was  to  boast 

Of  fleeting  things,  so  certain  to  be  lost.  10 

Clouds  of  affection  from  our  younger  eyes 

Conceal  that  emptiness  which  age  descries. 

The  soul's  dark  cottage,  battered  and  decayed, 

Lets  in  new  light  through  chinks  that  time  has  made; 

Stronger  by  weakness,  wiser  men  become,  15 

As  they  draw  near  to  their  eternal  home. 

Leaving  the  old,  both  worlds  at  once  they  view, 

That  stand  upon  the  threshold  of  the  new. 


John  Dryden,  Poems  on 
Variotis  Occasions,  1701. 

A    SONG. 

FOR  SAINT  Cecilia's  day,  1687. 

From  harmony,  from  heavenly  harmony, 
This  universal  frame  began  : 
When  nature  underneath  a  heap 


JOHN  DRY  DEN.  217 

Of  jarring  atoms  lay, 
And  could  not  heave  her  head,  S 

The  tuneful  voice  was  heard  from  high, 

'  Arise,  ye  more  than  dead.' 
Then  cold,  and  hot  and  moist,  and  dry,    , 
In  order  to  their  stations  leap, 

And  Music's  power  obey.  lo 

From  harmony,  from  heavenly  harmony. 
This  universal  frame  began  : 
From  harmony  to  harmony 
Through  all  the  compass  of  the  notes  it  ran, 

The  diapason  closing  full  in  man.  15 

What  passion  cannot  music  raise  and  quell  .^ 
When  Jubal  struck  the  chorded  shell, 
His  listening  brethren  stood  around. 
And,  wondering,  on  their  faces  fell 
To  worship  that  celestial  sound.  20 

Less  than  a  god  they  thought  there  could  not  dwell 
Within  the  hollow  of  that  shell 
That  spoke  so  sweetly  and  so  well. 
What  passion  cannot  music  raise  and  quell .'' 

The  trumpet's  loud  clangor  25 

Excites  us  to  arms. 
With  shrill  notes  of  anger 
And  mortal  alarms. 
The  double,  double,  double  beat 

Of  the  thundering  drum,  30 

Cries,  hark  !  the  foes  come  : 
Charge,  charge  !  't  is  too  late  to  retreat. 

The  soft  complaining  flute 
In  dying  notes  discovers 


218  SEVENTEEiVTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

The  woes  of  hopeless  lovers,  35 

Whose  dirge  is  whispered  by  the  warbling  lute. 

Sharp  violins  proclaim 
Their  jealous  pangs  and  desperation, 
Fury,  frantic  indignation. 

Depths  of  pains  and  height  of  passion  40 

For  the  fair,  disdainful  dame. 

But,  O  !  what  art  can  teach, 

What  human  voice  can  reach 
The  sacred  organ's  praise  ? 

Notes  inspiring  holy  love,  45 

Notes  that  wing  their  heavenly  ways 
To  mend  the  choirs  above. 

Orpheus  could  lead  the  savage  race, 
And  trees  unrooted  left  their  place 

Sequacious  to  the  lyre  :  50 

But  bright  Cecilia  raised  the  wonder  higher; 
When  to  her  organ  vocal  breath  was  given. 
An  angel  heard,  and  straight  appeared 

Mistaking  earth  for  heaven. 

Grand  Chorus. 
As  from  the  power  of  sacred  lays  55 

The  spheres  began  to  move, 
And  sung  the  great  Creator's  praise 

To  all  the  bless'd  above; 
So  when  the  last  and  dreadful  hour 
This  crumbling  pageant  shall  devour,  60 

The  trumpet  shall  be  heard  on  high, 
The  dead  shall  live,  the  living  die, 
And  Music  shall  untune  the  sky. 


JOHN  DRYDEN.  219 


John     Dryden,    King    Arthur^ 
1691. 

FAIREST  ISLE,   ALL   ISLES  EXCELLING. 

Fairest  isle,  all  isles  excelling, 

Seat  of  pleasures  and  of  loves ; 
Venus  here  will  choose  her  dwelling. 

And  forsake  her  Cyprian  groves. 

Cupid  from  his  favorite  nation  5 

Care  and  envy  will  remove ; 
Jealousy,  that  poisons  passion. 

And  despair,  that  dies  for  love. 

Gentle  murmurs,  sweet  complaining, 

Sighs  that  blow  the  fire  of  love ;  10 

Soft  repulses,  kind  disdaining. 
Shall  be  all  the  pains  you  prove. 

Every  swain  shall  pay  his  duty. 
Grateful  every  nymph  shall  prove  ; 

And  as  these  excel  in  beauty,  15 

Those  shall  be  renowned  for  love. 


John  Dryden,  Cleomems,  1692. 

NO,    NO,    POOR    SUFFERING    HEART. 

No,  no,  poor  suffering  heart,  no  change  endeavor ; 
Choose  to  sustain  the  smart,  rather  than  leave  her. 
My  ravished  eyes  behold  such  charms  about  her, 
I  can  die  with  her,  but  not  live  without  her  ; 
One  tender  sigh  of  hers  to  see  me  languish. 
Will  more  than  pay  the  price  of  my  past  anguish. 


220  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Beware,  O  cruel  fair,  how  you  smile  on  me, 

'T  was  a  kind  look  of  yours  that  has  undone  me. 

Love  has  in  store  for  me  one  happy  minute, 

And  she  will  end  my  pain  who  did  begin  it ;  lo 

Then  no  day  void  of  bliss  or  pleasure  leaving, 

Ages  shall  slide  away  without  perceiving : 

Cupid  shall  guard  the  door,  the  more  to  please  us. 

And  keep  out  Time  and  Death,  when  they  would  seize  us: 

Time  and  Death  shall  depart,  and  say,  in  flying,  15 

Love  has  found  out  a  way  to  live  by  dying. 


John  Dryden,  Third  Miscellany, 
1693. 

A    SONG. 

TO   A    FAIR    YOUNG    LADY    GOING    OUT    OF    TOWN    IN 
SPRING. 

Ask  not  the  cause  why  sullen  spring 
So  long  delays  her  flowers  to  bear ; 

Why  warbling  birds  forget  to  sing. 
And  winter  storms  invert  the  year  : 

Chloris  is  gone,  and  Fate  provides 

To  make  it  spring  where  she  resides. 

Chloris  is  gone,  the  cruel  fair ; 

She  cast  not  back  a  pitying  eye, 
But  left  her  lover  in  despair, 

To  sigh,  to  languish,  and  to  die. 
Ah,  how  can  those  fair  eyes  endure. 
To  give  the  wounds  they  will  not  cure  ? 

Great  god  of  love,  why  hast  thou  made 
A  face  that  can  all  hearts  command, 


MATTHEW  PRIOR.  221 

That  all  religions  can  invade,  15 

And  change  the  laws  of  every  land  ? 
Where  thou  hadst  placed  such  power  before, 
Thou  shouldst  have  made  her  mercy  more. 

When  Chloris  to  the  temple  comes, 

Adoring  crowds  before  her  fall ;  20 

She  can  restore  the  dead  from  tombs, 

And  every  life  but  mine  recall. 
I  only  am  by  love  designed 
To  be  the  victim  for  mankind. 


Matthew  Prior,  Foetus  on  Sev- 
eral Occasions,  1709;  written 
about  1693. 

A    SONG. 

In  vain  you  tell  your  parting  lover 
You  wish  fair  winds  may  waft  him  over. 
Alas  !  what  winds  can  happy  prove 
That  bear  me  far  from  what  I  love  ? 
Alas  !  what  dangers  on  the  main 
Can  equal  those  that  I  sustain 
From  slighted  vows  and  cold  disdain .? 

Be  gentle,  and  in  pity  choose 

To  wish  the  wildest  tempests  loose  ; 

That,  thrown  again  upon  the  coast 

Where  first  my  shipwrecked  heart  was  lost, 

I  may  once  more  repeat  my  pain. 

Once  more  in  dying  notes  complain 

Of  slighted  vows  and  cold  disdain. 


222  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 


John    Dryden,    Love     Trium- 
phant, 1693-94. 

SONG    OF   JEALOUSY. 

What  state  of  life  can  be  so  blest 

As  love,  that  warms  a  lover's  breast  ? 

Two  souls  in  one,  the  same  desire 

To  grant  the  bliss,  and  to  require. 

But  if  in  heaven  a  hell  we  find,  5 

'T  is  all  from  thee, 

O  Jealousy  ! 

'Tis  all  from  thee, 

O  Jealousy ! 
Thou  tyrant,  tyrant  Jealousy,  10 

Thou  tyrant  of  the  mind. 

All  other  ills,  though  sharp  they  prove, 

Serve  to  refine  and  perfect  love  : 

In  absence,  or  unkind  disdain, 

Sweet  hope  relieves  the  lover's  pain.  15 

But,  ah  !  no  cure  but  death  we  find. 

To  set  us  free 

From  Jealousy  : 

O  Jealousy ! 
Thou  tyrant,  tyrant  Jealousy,  20 

Thou  tyrant  of  the  mind. 

False  in  thy  glass  all  objects  are. 
Some  set  too  near,  and  some  too  far; 
Thou  art  the  fire  of  endless  night. 
The  fire  that  burns,  and  gives  no  light.  25 

All  torments  of  the  damned  we  find 
In  only  thee, 


MATTHEW  PRIOR.  223 

O  Jealousy  ! 
Thou  tyrant,  tyrant  Jealousy, 
Thou  tyrant  of  the  mind,  3° 


Matthew  Prior,  Poems  on  Sev- 
eral Occasions,  1709;  written 
about   1695-96. 

AN    ODE. 

The  merchant,  to  secure  his  treasure, 

Conveys  it  in  a  borrowed  name  : 
Euphelia  serves  to  grace  my  measure, 

But  Chloe  is  my  real  flame. 

My  softest  verse,  my  darling  lyre  5 

Upon  Euphelia's  toilet  lay, 
When  Chloe  noted  her  desire 

That  I  should  sing,  that  I  should  play. 

My  lyre  I  tune,  my  voice  I  raise  ; 

But  with  my  numbers  mix  my  sighs ;  10 

And  whilst  I  sing  Euphelia's  praise, 

I  fix  my  soul  on  Chloe's  eyes. 

Fair  Chloe  blushed,  Euphelia  frowned, 

I  sung  and  gazed,  I  played  and  trembled : 

And  Venus  to  the  Loves  around  '5 

Remarked  how  ill  we  all  dissembled. 


TO    CHLOE    WEEPING. 

See,  whilst  thou  weep'st,  fair  Chloe,  see 
The  world  in  sympathy  with  thee ! 


224  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

The  cheerful  birds  no  longer  sing, 
Each  droops  his  head,  and  hangs  his  wing ; 
The  clouds  have  bent  their  bosom  lower, 
And  shed  their  sorrows  in  a  shower  ; 
The  brooks  beyond  their  limits  flow, 
And  louder  murmurs  speak  their  woe. 
The  nymphs  and  swains  adopt  thy  cares, 
They  heave  thy  sighs  and  weep  thy  tears. 
Fantastic  nymph,  that  grief  should  move 
Thy  heart  obdurate  against  love  ! 
Strange  tears,  whose  power  can  soften  all 
But  that  dear  breast  on  which  they  fall ! 


A   SONG. 

If  wine  and  music  have  the  power 

To  ease  the  sickness  of  the  soul. 
Let  Phoebus  every  string  explore. 

And  Bacchus  fill  the  sprightly  bowl. 
Let  them  their  friendly  aid  employ  5 

To  make  my  Chloe's  absence  light, 
And  seek  for  pleasure  to  destroy 

The  sorrows  of  this  live-long  night. 

But  she  to-morrow  will  return. 

Venus  be  thou  to-morrow  great,  10 

Thy  myrtles  strew,  thy  odors  burn. 

And  meet  thy  favorite  nymph  in  state. 
Kind  goddess,  to  no  other  powers 

Let  us  to-morrow's  blessings  own ; 
Thy  darling  loves  shall  guide  the  hours,  15 

And  all  the  day  be  thine  alone. 


GEORGE    GRANVILLE.  225 


George  Granville,  Lord  Lans- 
DOWNE,  A  Collection  of  Poems, 
1701  ;  written  before   1689. 

SONG. 


The  happiest  mortals  once  were  we, 

I  loved  Myra,  Myra  me  ; 

Each  desirous  of  the  blessing, 

Nothing  wanting  but  possessing ; 

I  loved  Myra,  Myra  me  : 

The  happiest  mortals  once  were  we. 

But  since  cruel  fates  dissever, 
Torn  from  love,  and  torn  forever, 

Tortures  end  me, 

Death  befriend  me ! 
Of  all  pain,  the  greatest  pain 
Is  to  love,  and  love  in  vain. 


William  Congreve,  Works,  \-]\o', 
written  before  1700. 

SONG. 

See,  see,  she  wakes,  Sabina  wakes ! 

And  now  the  sun  begins  to  rise  ; 
Less  glorious  is  the  morn  that  breaks 

From  his  bright  beams,  than  her  fair  eyes. 

With  light  united,  day  they  give. 
But  different  fates  ere  night  fulfil ; 

How  many  by  his  warmth  will  live  ! 
How  many  will  her  coldness  kill  ! 


226  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 


AMORET. 

Fair  Amoret  is  gone  astray  : 

Pursue  and  seek  her,  every  lover ! 
I  '11  tell  the  signs  by  which  you  may 

The  wandering  shepherdess  discover. 

Coquet  and  coy  at  once  her  air,  5 

Both  studied,  though  both  seem  neglected ; 

Careless  she  is,  with  artful  care. 
Affecting  to  seem  unaffected. 

With  skill  her  eyes  dart  every  glance, 

Yet  change  so  soon  you  'd  ne'er  suspect  them  ;       lo 
For  she  'd  persuade  they  wound  by  chance, 

Though  certain  aim  and  art  direct  them. 

She  likes  herself,  yet  others  hates 

For  that  which  in  herself  she  prizes ; 
And  while  she  laughs  at  them,  forgets  is 

She  is  the  thing  that  she  despises. 


John  Dryden,  The  Secular  Masque, 
1700. 

HUNTING    SONG. 
Diana. 

With  horns  and  hounds,  I  waken  the  day, 
And  hie  to  the  woodland  walks  away ; 
I  tuck  up  my  robe,  and  am  buskined  soon. 
And  tie  to  my  forehead  a  wexing  moon ; 


JOHN  DRYDEN  227 

I  course  the  fleet  stag,  and  unkennel  the  fox,  5 

And  chase  the  wild  goats  o'er  the  summits  of  rocks  ; 
With  shouting  and  hooting  we  pierce  through  the  sky. 
And  Echo  turns  hunter  and  doubles  the  cry. 

CJt07'US. 

With  shouting  and  hooting  we  pierce  through  the  sky, 
And  Echo  turns  hunter  and  doubles  the  cry.  lo 


NOTES. 


1.  Pan's  Anniversary.  The  title  of  this  masque,  as  printed  in  the 
folio  of  1631-1641,  bears:  "As  it  was  presented  at  Court  before  King 
James,  1625."  James  died  in  March  of  that  year,  and  as  this  masque 
is  more  appropriate  to  summer,  Nichols  has  assigned  it  to  the  summer 
of  1624,  Mr.  Fleay  to  June  19,  1623.  This  was  one  of  the  masques 
in  which  Inigo  Jones,  the  famous  architect,  assisted  Jonson.  As  to 
Jonson,  see  the  editor's  Elizabethan  Lyrics,  Athenaeum  Press  Series, 
pp.  xxxi,  Ixvi,  and  259. 

1.  The  Shepherds'  Holiday.  In  the  original  the  three  stanzas  are 
assigned  to  successive  "  nymphs,"  young  women  of  marriageable  age. 

1  1.  Rites  Are  due.  Note  the  omission  of  the  relative.  See 
Abbott's  Shakespeare  Grammar,  §  244,  and  cf.  below,  pp.  4  3,  9  2,  18  5, 
94  9,  107  4. 

1  9.  Primrose-drop.  Appropriately  so  called  from  the  appearance 
of  the  blossoms  as  placed  on  separate  peduncles. 

1  10.     Day's-eyes  and  the  lips  of  cows.     Daisies  and  cowslips. 

1  11.  Garden-star.  Probably  the  flower  popularly  known  as  the 
star-of-Bethlehem. 

2.  Hymn,  To  Pan.  Here,  too,  the  stanzas  in  the  original  are 
assigned  to  successive  nymphs,  the  refrain  being  in  chorus. 

2  3.     Can.     Knows,  is  able  to  perform.     Cf.  99  20. 

2  7.  Hermes  would  appropriately  lead  the  dance,  from  the  lightness 
of  his  winged  feet. 

2  18.  Rebound.  Echo  back,  resound,  a  not  uncommon  meaning. 
Cf.  Child,  Ballads,  ed.  187 1,  HI,  340,  and,  especially.  The  Spanish  Tragedy, 
i.  I.  30: 

Both  raising  dreadful  clamors  to  the  sky, 
That  valleys,  hills  and  rivers  made  rebound. 

2.     Thomas  Dekker.     See  Elizabethan  Lyrics,  p.  232. 

2.  The  Sun's  Darling  is  described  as  "  a  moral  masque,"  and  is 
the  work  of  Dekker  and  Ford.  These  two  vigorous  songs  are  assur- 
edly Dekker's. 

229 


230  NOTES. 

2.     Country  Glee.     The  title  is  Mr.  Bullen's. 

2  7.     Bravely.     Finely,  beautifully. 

3  16.  Princes'  courts.  Mr.  Bullen,  on  I  know  not  what  authority, 
reads  a  prince's  cottrts.  The  ed.  of  Ford,  1840,  and  the  reprint  of 
Dekker  read  as  in  the  text. 

3  20.     Echo's  holloa.     Ed.  1870  reads  echo's  hollow. 
3  27.     Spring  up  .  .  .  the  partridges.     Start,  raise. 

3  35.     Sousing.     Swooping  down,  a  term  in  falconry. 

4.  Cast  away  Care.  This  lively  drinking  song  is  put  into  the 
mouth  of  the  character  Folly. 

4  6.  Play  it  off.  A  term  in  the  old  jargon  of  boon-companionship. 
Cf.  I  Henry  IV,  ii.  4.  18. 

4  9.     Cf.  Falstaff's  praise  of  sack,  2  Henry  IV,  iv.  3.  92. 

4.  Christ  Church  MS.  This  poem  was  first  printed  by  Mr.  Bullen 
in  his  More  Lyrics  from  Elizabethan  Song  Books,  1888,  p.  125. 

4  6.  Years  Are  yet  untold.  Note  the  omission  of  the  relative  and 
cf.  1  2. 

5.  Thomas  May,  the  historian  of  the  Long  Pariiament,  wrote 
several  plays  in  his  youth.  Mr.  Fleay  places  the  composition  of  The 
Old  Couple  before  The  Heir,  which  was  acted  in  1620.  The  poem  in 
the  text  appears  also  in  Porter's  Madrigals  and  Airs,  1632. 

5.  Love's  Prime.  Mr.  Bullen  {yl/(?r^  Zj/r/Vj,  p.  153)  doubts  whether 
May  wrote  this  song.  The  title  is  that  given  in  Wifs  Recreations,  ed. 
1641  (not  1640,  if  I  read  the  Preface  to  Park's  reprint  of  that  inter- 
esting work,  p.  ix,  aright).  This  poem  was  also  printed  in  John  Cot- 
grave's  IVii's  Interpreter,  1655,  and  in  Stafford  Smith's  Musica  Antiqiia, 
of  about  the  same  date.  Both  of  these  versions  exhibit  several  variant 
readings  of  minor  importance. 

5  5.  Flaming  beams.  This  is  the  reading  of  Wifs  Recreations ; 
Bullen  reads  inflaming  beams,  etc. 

5  9.     Still  young.     Ever  young.     Cf.  !>?>  12. 

5  9  10.     These  lines  are  omitted  in  the  version  of  Wifs  Recreations. 

5.  Edmund  Waller,  in  the  Biographica  Britannica,  ed.  1766,  start- 
lingly  described  as  "  the  most  celebrated  lyric  poet  that  England  ever 
produced,"  has  of  late  been  almost  as  perversely  dignified  by  Mr. 
Gosse  (in  his  From  Shakespeare  to  Pope)  as  the  absolute  founder  of  the 
classic  school  of  poetry.  I  would  commend  a  consideration  of  this 
little  lyric  of  Waller's  (which  his  first  editor,  Fenton,  assigns  to  the 
year  1627,  and  which  is  wholly  in  the  old,  free  manner)  to  those  who 
believe  that  Waller's  "  earliest  verses  .  .  .  possess  the  formal  character, 
the  precise  prosody  without  irregularity  or  overflow,  which  we  find  in 


NOTES.  231 

the  ordinary  verse  of  Dryden,  Pope  or  Darwin  "  {Eighteenth  Century 
Literature,  p.  3). 

5  1.  Stay,  Phoebus,  stay!  Cotton  begins  a  poem  with  the  same 
words  {Poems,  ed.  i68g,  p.  339). 

5  6.  De  Mornay.  Probably  one  of  Queen  Henrietta's  attendants, 
who  upon  the  misbehavior  of  Monseigneur  Saint  George  and  the 
Bishop  of  Mende  quitted  England  (Fenton). 

6  7.  Well  does  this  prove.  The  same  excellent  commentator 
remarks  :  "  The  latter  stanza  of  these  verses  .  .  .  alludes  to  the 
Copernican  system,  in  which  the  earth  is  supposed  to  be  a  planet,  and 
to  move  on  its  own  axis  around  the  sun,  the  center  of  the  universe. 
Dr.  Donne  and  Mr.  Cowley  industriously  affected  to  entertain  the  fair 
sex  with  such  philosophical  allusions,  which  in  his  riper  age  Mr.  Waller 
as  industriously  avoided."  Cf.  with  this  stanza  Wordsworth's  Poems, 
ed.  Dowden,  p.  54  : 

No  motion  has  she  now,  no  force ; 

She  neither  hears  nor  sees ; 
Rolled  round  in  earth's  diurnal  course 

With  rocks,  and  stones,  and  trees. 

Or  more  poetically  Tennyson's  beautiful  lines  beginning  {Poems,  ed. 
1S30,  p.  377)  : 

Move  eastward,  happy  earth,  and  leave 
Yon  orange  sunset. 

6.  Love's  Hue  and  Cry.  This  poem  appears  in  several  places,  — 
first  in  Shirley's  Witty  Fair  One,  published  in  1633,  in  the  Poems  of 
Carew,  1640,  and  in  Shirley's  octavo  volume  of  1646.  The  versions 
differ  considerably.  I  have  preferred  the  first — that  of  the  play  — 
which  seems  to  me,  barring  the  conclusion,  the  simplest  and  the  best. 
The  title  is  that  of  Shirley's  octavo,  in  which  the  poem  is  thus  con- 
cluded : 

That,  that  is  she ;  O  straight  surprise 

And  bring  her  unto  Love's  assize  ; 

But  lose  no  time,  for  fear  that  she 

Ruin  all  mankind,  like  me, 

Fate  and  philosophy  control. 

And  leave  the  world  without  a  soul. 

The  question  of  authorship  is  not  easily  decided  and  is  rendered 
the  more  difficult  as  this  is  not  the  only  poem  in  which  there  is  a  con- 
fusion of  authorship  between  Shirley  and  Carew.     Shirley  edited  his 


232  NOTES. 

poems  in  1646  with  greater  care  than  was  usual  in  his  age.  In  a  Post- 
script to  the  Reader  he  says  in  excuse  for  setting  forth  his  volume : 
"  When  I  observed  most  of  these  copies  [of  his  verses]  corrupted  in 
their  transcripts,  and  the  rest  fleeting  from  me,  which  were  by  some 
indiscreet  collector,  not  acquainted  with  distributive  justice,  mingled 
with  other  men's  (some  eminent)  conceptions  in  print,  I  thought  myself 
concerned  to  use  some  vindication  "  ( Works  of  Shirley,  ed.  Gifford 
and  Dyce,  VI,  461).  On  the  other  hand,  there  is  every  reason  to  believe 
that  the  poetry  of  Carew  was  not  only  printed  but  prepared  for  the 
press  after  the  poet's  death.  Dyce  in  his  notes  on  Shirley's  poems 
does  not  venture  an  opinion ;  Hazlitt  claims  the  poem  for  the  poet  he 
happens  to  be  editing ;  includes  a  well-known  poem  of  Drayton's,  from 
its  similar  title,  in  his  collection,  claiming  it  also  for  Carew ;  says  that 
Dyce  did  not  know  of  the  insertion  of  the  Hue  and  Cry  in  the  works  of 
Carew ;  and,  happening  upon  Dyce's  notes  before  his  own  ed.  of  Carew 
appeared,  concludes  by  retracting  his  own  words  in  his  Index  0/  Names. 
(See  Hazlitt's  Carew,  pp.  128,  and  244  under  Shirley.)  Such  external 
evidence  as  we  have  at  hand,  then,  would  assign  the  authorship  of 
this  poem,  together  with  the  two  others  mentioned  below,  to  Shirley 
rather  than  to  Carew.  When  we  consider  the  style  of  the  poems,  this 
view  is  substantiated.  Love's  Hzie  and  Cry  is  an  imitation,  though  not 
a  slavish  one,  of  Drayton's  Crier  (see  Elizabethan  Lyrics,-^.  195),  whilst 
To  his  Mistress  Confitied  is  decidedly  Donnian,  and  the  So7ig,  "  Would 
you  know  what  is  soft.?"  a  variation  on  the  third  stanza  of  Jonson's 
Triumph  of  Charis.  Now  such  imitations,  adaptations,  or  reminiscences 
of  the  literature  of  the  past  are  characteristics  of  the  dramatic  work 
of  Shirley,  characteristics,  by  the  way,  which  take  less  from  his  praise 
than  might  be  supposed.  (See  Ward's  estimate,. /i'/j/wj'  of  the  English 
Drama,  first  edition,  II,  334.)  Reminiscence  is  emphatically  not  a  trait 
of  the  undoubted  poetry  of  Carew,  whose  delicately  wrought  and  finely 
polished  lyrics  elude  the  paternity  of  both  Jonson  and  Donne,  and 
sparkle  with  an  originality  their  own. 

6  12.     As.     That.     Cf.  7  8. 

6  16.  Weed.  Garment.  This  is  the  reading  of  the  original  ed. 
Gifford  reads  red. 

6  17.     As.     As  if.      But  see  Shakespeare  Grammar,  %  107. 

7.  John  Ford,  the  famous  dramatist,  tried  his  hand  at  other  forms 
of  literature,  even  moral  treatises.  Of  his  life  little  is  known  save  that 
he  was  matriculated  at  Oxford  and  was  later  admitted  a  member  of  the 
Middle  Temple.  He  does  not  seem  to  have  depended  upon  the  stage 
for  a  livelihood,  and  most  of  his  work  is  characterized  by  elaborated 


NOTES.  233 

care  in  conception  and  in  diction.  Ford  retained  not  a  little  of  the 
great  lyrical  touch  of  the  previous  age. 

7.  The  Lover's  Melancholy  was  the  first  play  that  Ford  printed, 
although  many  preceded  it  on  the  stage. 

7  8.     As.     That.     Cf.  6  12. 

7.  The  Broken  Heart.  There  is  no  account  of  the  first  appearance 
of  this  famous  play. 

7  2.     Hours.    Dissyllabic,  as  generally. 

7  4.  Envying.  Accent  on  the  penult.  Cf.  Campion's  Song,  "  Silly 
boy  'tis  full  moon  yet,"  Elizabethan  Lyrics,  p.  187  : 

He  that  holds  his  sweetheart  true  unto  his  day  of  dying, 
Lives,  of  all  that  ever  breathed,  most  worthy  the  envying. 

8  7.  So  graced,  not,  etc.  So  graced  as  not,  etc.  See  Shakespeare 
Grammar,  §281,  and  cf.  Merchant  of  Venice,  iii.  3.  9. 

9.  Thomas  Goffe  was  a  clergyman,  who,  in  his  youth,  wrote  several 
plays,  some  of  them  performed  by  the  students  of  his  own  college, 
Christ  Church,  Oxford.  The  Careless  Shepherdess  -^'3.5  acted  before  the 
king  and  queen,  apparently  after  Goffe's  death.  This  may  possibly  not 
be  Goffe's  own. 

9  1.     Impale.     Encircle,  surround.     Cf.  j>  Henry  VI,  iii.  2.  171. 
9  2.     Flowers  the  time  allows.     Cf.  1  2,  4  3. 

9.  Hesperides.  The  title  of  Herrick's  collected  poetry.  The  chro- 
nology of  Herrick  is  attended  with  peculiar  difficulties,  as  there  is  little 
attempt  at  order  or  arrangement  in  either  of  the  divisions  of  his  work 
that  he  has  left  us.  He  began  to  write  in  the  twenties,  perhaps  earlier ; 
and  we  have  nothing  certainly  his  after  1649.  Some  of  his  poems, 
many  of  his  epigrams  —  more  it  is  likely  than  appear  in  his  accredited 
work  —  strayed  into  publications  like  Wit's  Recreations  (2l  hodge-podge 
of  everything  the  bookseller  could  lay  his  hands  on),  whether  before 
publication  elsewhere  or  not,  it  is  often  not  easy  to  determine.  In  the 
arrangement  of  Herrick's  poems  in  this  volume  I  have  followed  Pro- 
fessor Hale.  See  his  Dissertation,  Die  Chronologische  Ajtordming  der 
Dichtnngen  Robert  Herricks,  Halle,  1892. 

10.  Corinna  's  Going  A-Maying.  Mr.  Palgrave  says  of  this  poem  : 
"  A  lyric  more  faultless  and  sweet  than  this  cannot  be  found  in  any  lit- 
erature. Keeping  with  profound  instinctive  art  within  the  limits  of  the 
key  chosen,  Herrick  has  reached  a  perfection  very  rare  at  any  period  of 
literature  in  the  tones  of  playfulness,  natural  description,  passion,  and 
seriousness  which  introduce  and  follow  each  other,  like  the  motives  in 


234  NOTES. 

a  sonata  by  Weber  or  Beethoven,  throughout  this  little  masterpiece  of 
music  without  notes"  (Ed.  Herrick,  Coldest  Treasu7y,  p.  190). 

10  2.     God  unshorn.     Apollo. 

10  4.  Fresh-quilted  colors.  Here  referable  to  the  bright  and  varie- 
gated colors  of  sunrise.  Cf.  Milton's  tissued  clouds,  Ode  on  the  Morning 
0/  Christ's  Nativity,  V.  146. 

10  5.     Slug-a-bed.      Cf.  Romeo  and  Juliet,  iv.  5.  2. 

11  25.     Titan.     The  sun. 
11  28.     Beads.     Prayers. 

11  33.  Each  porch,  etc.  It  is  an  ancient  custom,  still  observed  in 
Devonshire  and  Cornwall,  to  deck  the  porches  of  houses  with  boughs 
of  sycamore  and  hawthorn  on  May-day  (Grosart). 

11  40.  Proclamation  made  for  May.  Probably  some  local  cere- 
monial preceding  the  May  revels,  for  an  account  of  which  latter  see 
Brand's  Popular  Antiquities,  ed.  1813,  I,  179. 

11  45.     Deal  of  youth.     A  goodly  number  of  youth. 

12  57.  Come,  let  us  go.  Nott  refers  to  Catullus,  Carmen  v,  for  a 
parallel  to  this  passage. 

12.  To  Julia.  A  larger  number  of  Herrick's  verses  are  addressed 
to  Julia  than  to  any  other  of  his  "  many  dainty  mistresses." 

12  3.  And  the  elves  also.  Cf.  Herrick's  fairy  poetry,  ed.  Hale, 
Athenaeum  Press  Series,  pp.  38-48. 

12  7.  Slow-worm.  A  harmless  species  of  lizard,  but  popularly 
supposed  to  be  very  venomous ;  also  called  a  blind  worm. 

12  11.     Cumber.     Trouble,  perplex. 

13.  A  Hymn  to  Love.  This  poem  occurs  in  Wit's  Recreations,  from 
its  position  probably  in  an  early  ed.,  that  of  1641  or  1645. 

13  3.     Likes  me.     This  impersonal  use  of  like  was  very  common. 

13  8.  Blubb'ring.  Weeping.  Not  formerly  a  vulgar  or  ludicrous 
word.     Cf.  Prior's  The  Better  Answer  : 

Dear  Chloe,  how  blubbered  is  that  pretty  face. 

14.  London's  Tempe,  or  The  Field  of  Happiness  was  composed 
for  the  Mayor's  festival  of  1629,  while  Dekker  was  city  poet. 

14  1.  Hammer,  from  your  sound,  etc.  In  allusion  to  the  Jewish 
legend  of  later  times  which  associates  Tubal-cain,  "  a  furbisher  of  every 
cutting  instrument  of  copper  and  iron,"  with  his  father  Lamech's 
song. 

15  10.  Dragons  of  the  moon.  Cf.  "  Night's  swift  dragons,"  A/id- 
summer  A^ight's  Dream,  iii.  2.  379,  and  //  Penseroso,  v.  59. 


NOTES.  235 

15  15.  Lemnian  hammers.  The  island  of  Lemnos  was  sacred  to 
Hephaestus  as  the  place  on  which  he  fell  when  hurled  from  Heaven. 

15  27.  Sparrowbills.  Sparable,  a  headless  nail  used  in  soling  shoes. 
The  form  sparable  occurs  in  Herrick's  Upon  Cob.,  ed.  Hazlitt,  I,  242. 

15  30.  Venus'  .  .  .  brawls  and  bans.  Bans,  curses.  As  to  Venus' 
brawls  with  her  husband,  Vulcan,  see  Valerius  Flaccus,  Argonautica, 
II,  98,  175,  312,  et passim. 

16.  The  New  Inn  was  so  complete  a  failure  that  it  was  not  even 
heard  to  a  conclusion.  Two  years  later  Jonson,  who  did  not  include  it 
in  the  folio  then  printing,  put  it  forth  with  this  title :  The  New  Inn  :  or 
the  Light  Heart,  a  Comedy.  As  it  was  never  acted,  but  most  negligently 
played  by  some,  the  King's  servants  ;  and  more  squeamishly  beheld  and 
censured  by  others,  the  King's  subjects.  .  .  .  Now  at  last  set  at  liberty  to  the 
readers,  his  Majesty's  servants  and  subjects,  to  be  judged  of.  The  most 
interesting  outcome  of  the  failure  of  this  play  and  the  consequent 
attacks  on  its  author  was  Jonson's  vigorous  Ode,  To  Himself,  beginning  : 
"  Come  leave  the  loathed  stage,"  and  the  answers  which  it  inspired 
among  such  "  sons  of  Ben "  as  Randolph,  Carew,  and  others.  See 
Cunningham's  y(?«j-(7«,  V,  p.  415  f. 

16.  Dr.  John  Wilson's  Cheerful  Airs  was  not  published  until  1660, 
but  the  spirit  of  the  poetry  is  almost  wholly  Elizabethan  and  Jacobean, 
a  spirit  which  continued  into  the  earlier  part  of  the  reign  of  Charles. 

17  28.  That  goes  into  the  clear.  Probably  clear  equals  the  light, 
blaze  of  the  furnace  or  refiner's  fire. 

IS  5.     Witty.     Wise.     Cf.  35  17. 

18  5.    Words  her  sweet  tongue.     Cf.  1  9,  4  3,  9  2. 

18  5.  So  wove,  four  eyes  in  one.  Cf.  Donne's  The  Ecstacy,  ed. 
1650,  p.  42: 

Our  eye-beams  twisted,  and  did  thread 
Our  eyes  upon  one  double  string. 

19.  Egerton  MS.,  2013.  This  MS.  contains  songs,  the  music  of 
which  was  written  by  Dr.  John  Wilson  (1594-1673);  and  by  John  Hil- 
ton, who  died  in  1657.  Save  for  some  small  matters  of  punctuation,  1 
follow  the  text  of  Arber's  English  Garner,  III,  395-397. 

20.  Upon  a  Maid.  This  epitaph  is  found  in  Wifs  Recreations,  ed. 
Park,  p.  245.  F'rom  its  position  before  several  of  the  epitaphs  on 
Hobson,  the  Camliiridge  carrier,  by  Milton  and  several  lesser  poets  in 
1630,  I  have  no  hesitation  in  placing  it  early. 

20  1.  In  bed  of  spice.  Cf.  The  Dirge  of  fephtha's  Daughter,  Her- 
rick,  ed.  Hale,  147  61. 


236  NOTES. 

20.  On  Time.  The  words  "  To  be  set  on  a  clock-case  "  are  found 
following  this  title  in  Milton's  MS.  in  his  own  hand  (Warton). 

20  2.  Leaden-stepping.  Cf.  Carew's  A  Pastoral  Dialogue,  where 
the  hours  are  said  to  "move  with  leaden  feet."  Reprint  1824,  p.  56 
(Dyce). 

20  12.  Individual.  Inseparable.  <Zi.  Paradise  Lost, '\v.  \Z(i:  "An 
individual  solace  dear";  and  also  ibid.  v.  610  (Warton). 

21  18.  Happy-making  sight.  The  plain  English  of  beatific  vision 
(Newton). 

21.  Song  on  May  Morning.  This  little  lyric  is  usually  assigned  to 
May  I,  1630. 

21  3.  Flowery  May,  etc.  Cf.  the  Faery  Queen,  Of  Mutability, 
vii.  34 : 

Then  came  fair  May,  the  fairest  maid  on  ground, 
Decked  all  with  dainties  of  her  season's  pride, 
And  throwing  flowers  out  of  her  lap  around. 

21.  An  Epitaph.  These  commendatory  verses  were  prefixed  to 
the  second  folio  of  Shakespeare.  "  Milton's  couplets,  however,"  as  the 
late  Mr.  Mark  Pattison  remarks,  "  differ  from  these  pieces  [others,  pre- 
fixed] in  not  having  been  written  to  order,  but  being  the  spontaneous 
outcome  of  his  own  admiration  for  Shakespeare"  {Milto)i''s  Sonnets, 
p.  78). 

21  1.  Need.  The  Shakespeare  folio  reads  neede.  See  Shakespeare 
Grammar,  §  297,  and  cf.  Much  Ado,  i.  i.  318  : 

What  need  the  bridge  much  broader  than  the  flood  ? 

21  4.  Star-ypointing.  The  prefix  r  answers  to  the  Old  English  ^.f 
and  "  is  etymologically  equivalent  to  Latin  con,  cutn.  It  is  usually  pre- 
fixed to  past  participles,  but  also  to  past  tenses,  present  tenses, 
adjectives  and  adverbs"  (Skeat,  Etymological  Dictionary,  s.v.). 

22  10.     Heart.     The  folio  reads /arA 

22  11.  Unvalued,  invaluable.  Cf.  inexpressive,  inexpressible.  Ode 
on  the  Nativity,  116,  Lycidas,  176,  and  Shelley's  ^;r///«Ja ."  over  heaps 
of  unvalued  (i.e.,  valueless)  stones.  I  am  indebted  for  this  and  many 
other  notes  and  parallels  to  Pattison's  excellent  edition  of  Milton^s 
Sonnets. 

22  15.  And,  so  sepulchred,  etc.  Pattison  refers  this  '  conceit '  to 
the  funeral  oration  of  I'ericles,  Thucydides,\\.  /\t,'i  ^^^  calls  attention 
to  Pope's  imitation  of  it  in  his  Epitaph  on  Gay.  Sepulchred  is  the 
usual  accent  in  Shakespeare  ;  cf.  Richard  II,  i.  3.   195. 


NOTES.  237 

22  16.  That  kings,  etc.  Cf.  Donne's  Letters,  ed.  1651,  p.  244 :  "  No 
prince  would  be  loth  to  die  that  were  assured  of  so  fair  a  tomb  to  pre- 
serve his  memory." 

22.  To  the  Nightingale.  This  title  is  not  found  in  either  the 
edition  of  1645  °''  '•'^^'-  °^  1673.  "  I"  '^'^is  sonnet  and  the  Shakespeare 
epitaph,"  says  Pattison,  "  Milton  had  not  yet  shaken  himself  free  from 
the  trick  of  contriving  cojieetti,  as  was  the  fashion  of  the  previous  age, 
and  especially  of  his  models,  the  Italians.  After  these  two  juvenile 
pieces  his  sense  of  reaUty  asserted  itself,  and  he  never  again,  in  the 
sonnets,  lapses  into  frigid  and  far-fetched  ingenuities "  {Milton  'j- 
Sonnets,  p.  84). 

22  4.  Jolly.  Festive  or  almost  in  the  sense  of  the  French  jolt, 
pleasing,  pretty.  Cf .  The  Faery  Queen,  Of  Mutability,  vii.  29  :  "  Then 
came  the  jolly  summer,"  and  ibid.  35,  where  the  same  adjectiveis  applied 
to  June.  Cf.  Milton's  poem  /«  Adventitm  Veris,  25,  26,  and  Gray's 
Ode  to  Spring. 

11  5.  Close  the  eye  of  day.  Cf.  Comns,  gyS,  and  Crashaw,  To  the 
Morning,  ed.  Trumbull,  p.  113  (Todd). 

22  6.     First  heard,  etc.     Ci.  The  Cuckoo  and  the  Nightingale,  $1-^6: 

But  as  I  lay  this  other  night  waking, 
I  thought  how  lovers  had  a  tokening, 
And  among  hem  it  was  a  commune  tale 
That  it  would  good  to  hear  the  nightingale 
Ratlier  than  the  leud  cuckoo  sing. 

Pattison    calls    this    whole    sonnet    "  only    an    amplification    of    this 
stanza." 

22  9.  Rude  bird  of  hate.  The  cuckoo,  from  its  habit  of  leaving 
its  eggs  in  the  nests  of  other  birds  and  deserting  its  offspring,  became 
in  all  literatures  the  type  of  the  enemy  of  love.  Cf.  Brand's  Popular 
Antiquities,  ed.  1813,  II,  114. 

22  13.     His  mate.     His  agreeing  with  Love  in  gender. 

23  1.  How  soon  hath  Time.  This  sonnet  has  every  appearance  of 
having  been  written  on  Milton's  twenty-third  birthday,  Dec.  9,  1631, 
although  the  heading  of  the  text  is  not  found  in  either  of  the  editions 
printed  during  the  poet's  lifetime.  The  sonnet  appears  to  have  been 
prompted  by  a  friend's  expostulation  that  Milton  do  something  better 
than  study.  See  Masson's  Milton,  I,  289,  where  this  letter  is  quoted 
entire. 

23  1.     The  subtle  thief  of  youth.     Cf.  Pope's  Sat.  VI,  76. 


238  NOTES. 

23  2.  Stolen  on  his  wing.  Cf.  Pope's  Transl.  of  Martial's  Epigram 
on  Ant  cuius  Frimiis,  X,  23: 

While  Time  with  still  career 
Wafts  on  his  gentle  wing  his  eightieth  year. 

23  o.  My  semblance.  In  allusion  to  his  youthful  face  and  figure. 
It  is  said  that  when  forty  Milton  was  taken  for  thirty. 

23  8.     Endu'th.     Endoweth. 

23  9.     It.     I.e.,  inward  ripeness,  v.  7. 

23  10.  It  shall  be  still  in  strictest  measure  even.  "  Nothing  in 
Milton's  life  is  more  noteworthy  than  his  deliberate  intention  to  be  a 
great  poet,  and  the  preparation  he  made  with  that  intention  from  the 
earliest  period.  Here  we  have  a  solemn  record  of  self-dedication,  with- 
out specification  of  the  nature  of  the  performance"  (Pattison,  Milton's 
Sonnets,  p.  9S). 

23  10  11.     Even  to.     Conformable  with. 

23  14.  Taskmaster's  eye.  An  allusion  to  the  parable  of  the 
laborers  in  the  vineyard,  Matthetv  XX. 

23.  Philip  Massinger  was  sometime  page  in  the  household  of  the 
Earl  of  Pembroke.  The  limits  and  extent  of  his  dramatic  labors  are 
difficult  to  define,  owing  to  his  habit  of  collaboration.  A  close  friend- 
ship existed  between  him  and  Fletcher.  He  is  said  to  have  become  a 
convert  to  Roman  Catholicism  in  middle  life.  This  play  is  one  of  the 
fifteen  in  which  Massinger  is  supposed  to  have  been  unaided  by  others. 

23.  Death  Invoked.  This  is  Mr.  Bullen's  title.  The  song  is  sung, 
in  the  play,  by  the  empress  Eudocia. 

24.  Richard  Brome  was  in  early  life  a  servant  and  later  a  protege 
of  Ben  Jonson.      The  Northern  Lass  was  his  most  successful  play. 

24  4.  Mickle.  This  form,  later  confined  chiefly  to  the  north,  was 
not  uncommon  in  Elizabethan  English. 

25.  Richard  Brathwaite  was  a  voluminous  author  in  his  day,  his 
works  ranging  through  the  usual  popular  and  trivial  subjects  of  the 
pamphleteer  in  verse  and  prose.  He  appears  to  have  written  for 
pleasure,  as  he  was  a  man  of  substantial  wealth  and  position.  His 
best-known  work  is  his  Barnabae  Itiiterariitvi  or  Barnabee's  Journal, 
an  account  of  a  journey  in  English  and  Latin  doggerel  verses  of  con- 
siderable spirit.  The  English  Gentleman  and  The  English  Gentle- 
woman are  made  up  of  "  sundry  excellent  rules  and  exquisite 
observations,  tending  to  direction  of  every  gentleman  of  selecter  rank 
and  quality,  how  to  demean,  or  accommodate  himself  in  the  manage- 
ment of  public  and  private  affairs." 


NOTES.  239 

25.  Celestina,  or  the  tragi-comedy  of  Calisto  and  Melibea,  a 
dramatic  romance  in  dialogue,  is  regarded  by  historians  of  Spanish 
literature  as  the  source  of  their  national  drama.  The  work  was  com- 
pleted about  the  year  1492,  by  Fernando  de  Rojas,  by  the  addition  of 
twenty  acts  to  the  first,  which  was  ascribed  to  Rodrigo  Cota.  James 
Mabbe,  who  translated  his  own  name  into  Don  Diego  Puer-de-ser  on 
the  title,  was  the  first  to  translate  the  story  into  English,  although  the 
plot  had  been  more  than  once  previously  employed  in  the  drama. 
Though  no  more  than  translations,  the  first  from  the  thirteenth  act, 
the  second  from  the  nineteenth,  these  two  little  lyrics  have  a  grace  of 
manner  and  a  poetical  spirit  which  I  think  justifies  their  reappearance 
here.  The  former  reads  thus  in  the  original  (Zrt  Celestina-,  Barcelona, 
1883,  p.  228)  : 

Duerme  y  descansa,  penado. 

Desde  azora  ; 
Pues  te  ama  tu  seiiora 

De  su  grado  ; 
Venza  placer  al  cuidado, 

Y  no  le  vea, 
Pues  te  ha  hecho  su  privado 

Melibea. 

Mr.  Bullen,  who  is  apparently  not  aware  that  these  lyrics  are  transla- 
tions, finds  a  more  remote  resemblance  in  one  of  the  fragments  of 
Sappho. 

26.  Albion's  Triumph.  This  masque  was  "presented  by  the  King 
and  his  lords,  Sunday  after  Twelfth  Night."  Inigo  Jones  contrived  it 
and  procured  Townsend  to  write  it.  The  flattery  of  royalty  by  obvious 
classical  allusion  needs  no  explanation  here. 

27.  Love  in  thy  Youth.  There  is  a  MS.  copy  of  this  poem,  Ash- 
mole  MS.  38,  No.  188. 

28.  Peter  Hausted,  a  Cambridge  clergyman,  "  was  killed  on  the 
ramparts  of  Banbury,  while  the  Roundheads  were  vigorously  besieging 
it "  (Gosse).  The  Rival  Friends  is  described  on  the  title  as  "  cried 
down  by  boys,  faction,  envy  and  confident  ignorance ;  approved  by  the 
judicious,  and  now  exposed  to  public  censure  by  the  author";  and 
dedicated  "  To  the  Right  Honourable,  Right  Reverend,  Right  Worship- 
ful, or  whatever  he  be,  or  shall  be,  whom  I  hereafter  may  call  patron." 

29.  William  Habington,  says  Anthony  a  Wood,  "was  educated 
at  S.  Omers  and  Paris ;  in  the  first  of  which  he  was  earnestly 
invited  to  take  upon  him  the  habit  of  the  Jesuits,  but  by  excuses,  got 
free  and  left  them.     After  his  return  from  Paris,  being  at  man's  estate, 


240  NO  TES. 

he  was  instructed  at  home  in  matters  of  history  by  his  father,  and 
became  an  accomplished  gentleman"  (^Athenae  Oxon.,  ed.  1817,  III, 
223).  Wood  relates  further  that  Habington,  during  the  Commonwealth, 
"did  run  with  the  times,  and  was  not  unknown  to  Oliver  the  Usurper." 
Besides  Caslara,  Habington  wrote  a  play  and  some  Observations  upon 
History. 

29.  Castara.  The  text  is  from  Professor  Arber's  reprint  of  the 
ed.  1 634- 1 640.  Castara  was  Lady  Lucy  Herbert,  daughter  of  Lord 
Powis,  whom  the  poet  married  between  1630  and  1633.  The  poems  are 
largely  autobiographical,  and  smack  strongly  of  the  characteristics  of 
the  Elizabethan  sonnet  sequences,  though  few  of  them  are  in  anything 
even  approaching  the  sonnet  form.  Professor  Masson  assigns  the 
earlier  poems  of  Castara  to  the  year  1632;  the  later  ones  were  written 
after  Habington's  marriage  {Life  of  Milton,  I,  454). 

29  2.  In  the  chaste  nunn'ry  of  her  breasts.  Cf.  Lovelace's  use  of 
the  same  figure  below,  —  To  Lticasta,  on  Going  to  the  Wars,  132  2. 

29  5.  Transplanted  thus,  how  bright  ye  grow.  Cf.  Carew,  On  a 
Damask  Rose,  sticking  upon  a  Lady''s  Breast. 

29  7.     Close.     Walled  in,  protected. 

29  14.  Your  glorious  sepulchre  shall  be.  Cf.  with  this  verse  and 
the  whole  poem,  Herrick's  lines  Upon  the  Roses  in  Julia's  Bosom  : 

Thrice  happy  roses,  so  much  graced,  to  have 
Within  the  bosom  of  my  love  your  grave  ! 
Die  when  ye  will,  your  sepulchre  is  known. 
Your  grave  her  bosom  is,  ths  lawn  the  stone. 

30  16.  The  withered  marigold.  In  allusion  to  the  popular  belief 
that  the  marigold  closes  its  petals  with  the  setting  of  the  sun.  Cf. 
Carew,  The  Marigold,  below,  p.  43. 

30  5.  Some  cherubim.  Often  used  as  a  singular  in  Shakespeare's 
day  and  later.     Cf.  Tempest,  i.  2.  152,  and  73  6,  below. 

31.  Against  them  that  lay  Unchastity  to  the  Sex  of  Woman. 
This  poem  is  written  in  direct  answer  to  Donne's  Song,  "  Go  and  catch 
a  falling  star."     See  Elizabethan  Lyrics,  p.  97. 

31  3.  They  hear  but  when  the  mermaid  sings.  Donne:  "Teach 
me  to  hear  mermaid's  singing." 

31  5.     Who  ever  dare  affirm.     Donne : 

And  swear 
Nowhere 
Lives  a  woman  true  and  fair. 


NOTES.  241 

31  11.     Right  ones.     True  ones,  real  ones. 

32.  George  Herbert  enjoyed  a  distinguished  career  at  Cambridge, 
procuring  in  1619  the  public  oratorship  of  the  University.  This,  with 
the  high  position  of  his  family,  brought  him  into  contact  with  the  court, 
where  he  was  held  in  high  favor  by  James,  and  enjoyed  the  personal 
friendship  of  Bacon  and  Dr.  Donne.  Having  entered  the  church,  in 
1630  he  became  rector  of  Fuggelstone,  after  which  he  survived  only 
three  years.  His  life  was  pure  and  saint-like  and  has  been  beautifully 
told  by  Isaak  Walton. 

32.  The  Temple,  Sacred  Poems  and  Private  Ejaculations  is  the 
title  of  Herbert's  volume  of  devotional  poetry.  This  title  appears  to 
have  been  given  the  work  after  Herbert's  death  by  his  friend  and 
literary  executor,  Nicholas  Ferrar.  One  of  the  two  extant  MSS.  of 
The  Temple,  that  in  the  Williams  Library,  London,  bears  the  title,  The 
Church,  the  later  title  having  been  given  the  work  from  Psalm  XXIX, 
"  In  his  Temple  doth  every  man  speak  of  his  honor,"  which  appears  in 
the  printed  title.  The  book  enjoyed  from  the  first  a  great  popularity,  a 
second  edition  following  in  the  same  year,  with  no  less  than  eleven 
successors  up  to   1709. 

32.  The  Altar,  Easter  Wings.  Both  of  these  poems  were  printed 
in  the  original  editions  to  shape  their  titles.  A  chapter,  interesting  to 
the  curious,  might  be  written  on  these  shaped  verses.  Puttenham  in 
his  The  Art  of  English  Poesie  devotes  considerable  space  to  a  grave  dis- 
cussion of  "  the  lozange,  fuzie,  tricquet,  pillaster,  piramis " ;  and 
derives  their  invention  from  "the  Courts  of  the  great  princes  of  China 
and  Tartary."  Such  devices,  with  acrostics,  anagrams,  and  other  exer- 
cises of  ingenuity,  were  very  popular  in  the  days  of  Elizabeth  and 
James  (see  Sylvester,  ed.  Grosart,  I,  4,  15;  II,  321,  etc.,  Wither, 
Arber's  English  Gartter,  IV,  476-478,  and  Musariim  Deliciae,  II,  295, 
et  passim),  but  were  ridiculed  by  such  men  as  Jonson  and  Nashe.  See 
the  editor's  Poetic  and  Verse  Criticism  of  the  Peign  of  Elizabeth,  pp.  54, 
55,  for  a  fuller  account  of  this  fashion. 

32  2.     Cemented.     Accent  on  the  first  syllable. 

32  10.  The  fall  further  the  flight,  i.e.,  "  So  shall  the  fall  of  man 
give  me  an  opportunity  for  a  longer  and  higher  flight  than  would  other- 
wise have  been  possible." 

33  12.     Still.     Ever.     Cf.  5  9. 

33  19.  Imp.  In  falconry,  to  mend  or  extend  a  deficient  wing  by  the 
insertion  of  a  feather.    Cf.  Carew's  Ingratefitl  Beauty  Threatened,  v.  6. 

33  5.  The  sweetness  (of  the  flower)  and  the  praise  (for  the  act  of 
grace). 


242  NO  TES. 

33  14.  To  thy  praise.  With  respect  to ;  we  should  say  "  in  thy 
praise."     Cf.  Shakespeare  Grammar,  §  i86. 

34  19.     That.     The  honey.      These.      The  flowers. 

34  22.  All  my  company.  "  All  the  company  or  companionship  that 
I  furnish  is  that  of  a  weed  among  flowers."  I  am  indebted  for  this  note 
and  that  on  32  lo  to  Professor  Kittredge. 

34  23.  Consort.  Cf.  a  consort  of  music,  an  orchestra,  with  a  plry 
on  the  meaning, — those  that  live  in  agreement  and  harmony  with  thee. 

34  2.  Bridal.  Bridal  day.  This  word  was  originally  bride  ale, 
bride's  feast,  and  had  not  yet  lost  its  etymological  meaning  in  Herbert's 
day. 

34  5.     Angry.     Red,  the  color  of  anger. 

34  5.     Brave.     Beautiful,  here  perhaps  gaudy.     Cf.  81  15. 

34  11.  Closes.  In  music  the  end  of  a  strain  or  cadence.  Cf.  Dry- 
den's  Flower  and  the  Leaf,  197. 

34  2.     Train-bands.     Citizen  soldiers  of  London. 

35  11.  I  heard  in  music  you  had  skill.  Herbert  is  reported  to 
have  been  an  excellent  musician,  "  not  only  singing,  but  playing  on  the 
lute  and  viol." 

35  17.  Wit.  In  the  usual  contemporary  meaning,  mind,  under- 
standing.    Cf.  witty,  IS  5. 

36  9.  Regiments.  Rules,  governments.  Cf.  the  title  of  John 
Knox's  book.  First  Blast  of  the  Trumpet  against  the  Monstrous  Regi- 
ment of  Women. 

36  13.     Weeds.     Garments. 

36  2.  Your  sense.  Your  senses  in  modern  English.  Cf.  37  30, 
94  5,  and  127  19. 

37  20.  Propagation.  The  termination  dissyllabic,  as  usual.  Cf. 
75  4. 

37  23.  Commerce.  So  accentuated  by  Shakespeare ;  see  Troilus 
and  Cressida,  i.  3.  105  :  "  Peaceful  commerce  from  dividable  shores." 

38.  Arcades.  "  Part  of  an  entertainment  presented  to  the  Countess 
Dowager  of  Derby  at  Harefield  by  some  noble  persons  of  her  family,  • 
who  appear  on  the  scene  in  pastoral  habit."  This  was  Milton's  first 
masque.  He  seems  to  have  been  invited  to  write  it  by  his  friend, 
Henry  Lawes,  the  famous  musician.  The  piece,  as  we  have  it,  is  not 
complete,  the  prose  parts  being  probably  not  Milton's. 

38  1.  Enamelled.  A  favorite  word  of  the  age.  Bright,  variegated 
is  a  secondary  and  probably  later  sense. 

38  2.     Print  of  step.     Cf.  Comics,  897  :  "  printless  feet." 
38  4.     Warbled.     Tuneful.     Cf.  Comus,  854. 


NOTES.  243 

38  6.  Star-proof  elm.  Cf.  Faery  Queen,  i.  i.  7.  This  is  one  of 
several  of  Milton's  trivial  inaccuracies  in  the  observation  of  nature, 
as  the  foliage  of  the  elm  is  notably  light. 

38  2.  Sandy  Ladon.  Ladon,  a  river  in  Arcadia.  Cf.  Browne's 
Britannia's  Pastorals,  ii.  4. 

38  2.  Lilied.  Cf.  Sylvester,  Bethulia''s  Rescue,  ed.  Grosart,  II, 
194. 

38  3.  Lycaeus.  A  mountain  of  Arcadia  sacred  to  Zeus  and  to  Pan. 
Cyllene  was  the  highest  mountain  of  the  Peloponnesus. 

38  5.  Erymanth.  Probably  here  neither  particularly  the  stream  nor 
mountain  of  that  name,  but  the  region  in  which  both  are  situated. 

38  7.  Maenalus.  Also  a  mountain  in  Arcadia,  especially  sacred  to 
Pan. 

38  9.    Have  greater  grace.     Meet  with  greater  favor. 

38  11.  Syrinx.  The  story  of  this  Arcadian  nymph,  pursued  by 
Pan  and  turned  into  a  reed,  is  a  familiar  classical  fable. 

39.  A  Masque.  This  is  the  title  of  Lawes'  edition  of  1637,  of 
Milton's  first  edition  of  his  poems,  and  his  second  edition  of  1673. 
Thomas  Warton  in  his  excellent  ed.  of  Milton,  1785,  says:  "I  have 
ventured  to  insert  this  title  {Camus'],  which  has  the  full  sanction  of 
use."  The  original  music  of  the  songs  of  Comtis,  written  by  Lawes, 
who  was  himself  one  of  the  performers  at  its  presentation,  is  preserved 
in  the  British  U.-ase\xm,  Add.  MS.  11 5-1 18.  The  music  of  the  Song, 
"  Sweet  Echo,"  is  printed  in  Hawkins'  History  of  Music,  IV,  53. 

39  2.  Airy  shell.  Vault  or  convex  of  the  heavens.  Cf.  Ode  on  the 
Nativity,  stanza  x,  where  a  similar  expression  is  applied  to  the  moon's 
sphere  : 

Nature  that  heard  such  sound, 

Beneath  the  hollow  round 

Of  Cynthia's  seat  the  airy  region  thrilling. 

39  3.     Margent.     A  doublet  of  margin. 

39  4.  Violet-embroidered.  Compounds  such  as  these  were  less 
common  among  the  poets  of  Milton's  day  than  a  generation 
earlier. 

39  5.  Love-lorn.  Deprived  of  her  mate.  Cf.  Tempest,  iv.  i.  68: 
"  lass-lorn." 

39  7.  A  gentle  pair.  Warton  directs  our  attention  to  these  very 
words  in  The  I-'aithful  Shepherdess,  i.  i,  as  one  instance  of  many 
"which    prove    Milton's    intimate  familiarity   with  Fletcher's  play." 

39  14.     Give  resounding  grace,  i.e.,  the  grace  of  an  echo.     Warton 


244  A'OTES. 

notes   Lawes'  'professional    alteration'  of    this  verse  to  "And   hold  a 
counterpoint  to  all  heaven's  harmonies." 
39  1.     Sabrina  fair.     Cf.  line  824,  above: 

There  is  a  gentle  Nymph  not  far  from  hence, 
That  with  moist  curb  sways  the  smooth  Severn  stream  : 
Sabrina  is  her  name :  a  virgin  pure  ; 
Whilom  she  was  the  daughter  of  Locrine, 
That  had  the  sceptre  from  his  father  Brute. 
She,  guiltless  damsel,  flying  the  mad  pursuit 
Of  her  enraged  stepdame,  Guendolen, 
Commended  her  fair  innocence  to  the  flood 
That  stayed  her  flight  with  his  cross-flowing  course. 

See  Mr.  Swinburne's  fine  tragedy  on  this  old  theme. 

39  3.     Glassy  .  .  .  wave.     Cf.  Hamlet,  iv.  7.  168. 

39  5.  Amber-dropping.  The  water  dripping  from  her  hair,  partak- 
ing its  color  by  reflection.  Todd  gives  the  following  parallel  from 
Nashe's  Ter7-ors  of  the  Alight,  1594:  "Their  hair  they  wear  loose 
unrowled  about  their  shoulders,  whose  dangling  amber  trammells  reach- 
ing down  beneath  their  knees,  seem  to  drop  baulm  on  their  delicious 
bodies."  Milton  is  very  fond  of  the  word  amber.  Cf.  V Allegro,  61, 
Paradise  Lost,  iii.  359,  Paradise  Regained,  iii.  288,  and  Comus,  333. 

39  10-21.  Great  Oceanus.  Hesiod,  Theog.  20 ;  repeated  again  and 
again  by  such  English  poets  as  Drayton  in  the  Polyolbion,  and  Jonson 
in  the  Queen's  Masque.  See  Warton's  note.  In  the  lines  following  we 
have  a  long  list  of  the  ancient  deities  of  the  sea :  Tethys,  the  aged  wife 
of  Oceanus ;  Nereus,  the  old  man  of  the  sea,  who  sits  at  the  bottom  in 
ooze  and  slime;  the  prophetic  (wizard)  Proteus,  called  the  Carpathian, 
from  the  island  Carpathos,  in  which,  according  to  one  of  the  legends, 
he  was  supposed  to  have  been  born,  with  the  shepherd's  crook  (hook) 
with  which  he  tended  his  flocks  of  seals ;  the  merman  Triton,  with  his 
conch  ;  Glaucus,  the  immortal  fisherman,  god  of  mariners  ;  Leucothea, 
otherwise  Ino,  who,  like  Sappho,  jumped  into  the  sea,  and,  like  Arion, 
was  rescued  by  a  dolphin  ;  Thetis,  the  Nereid,  mother  of  Achilles  ;  the 
Sirens,  Ligea  and  Parthenope,  whose  tomb  was  adored  at  Naples. 
Milton  fairly  revels  in  allusions  such  as  these,  and  his  poetry  is  full  of 
like  passages.  Warton  gives  several  parallels  from  previous  poets  in 
the  use  of  these  myths  and  the  epithets  with  which  they  are  described. 
It  may  be  noted  that  Drummond  and  Campion  show,  with  Spenser 
before  them  and  Browne  after  them,  a  like  skill  in  the  interweaving  of 
classical  allusion  and  proper  names  in  their  verse. 


NO  TES.  245 

40  33.  Where  grows  the  willow,  etc.  Cf.  The  Faithful  Shep- 
herdess, iii.  I,  where  the  river  god  speaks  thus: 

I  am  this  fountain's  god :  below, 
My  waters  to  a  river  grow, 
And  twixt  two  banks  with  osiers  set, 
That  only  prosper  in  tlie  wet, 
Through  the  meadows  do  they  glide. 

40  34.  My  sliding  chariot,  etc.  This  idea  of  Sabrina's  chariot  seems 
suggested  by  Drayton's  Polyolbion,  Sotig,  v.  i,  ed.  Hooper,  I,  129  : 

Now  Sabrine,  as  a  queen,  miraculously  fair. 

Is  absolutely  placed  in  her  imperial  chair 

Of  crystal  richly  wrought,  that  gloriously  did  shine. 

Cf.  the  two  passages  at  length. 

40  35.  Azurn.  Italian  azzurrino,  suggests  Todd.  Cf.  cedarti  below, 
42  1.5. 

40  36.     Turkis.     Turquoise. 

40  39.  Printless  feet.  Cf.  Tempest,  v.  i.  34  :  "  And  ye  that  on  the 
sands  with  printless  feet  do  chase  the  ebbing  Neptune  "  (Warton). 

41  49.     Enchanter  vile.     Cf.  Fae/y  Queen,  iii.  12.  31  (Todd). 

41  53.  Thus  I  sprinkle.  Cf.  with  this  removal  of  the  charm 
various  like  passages  in  The  Faithftd  Shepherdess,  collected  and  quoted 
by  Warton. 

41  63.  Amphitrite's  bower.  Drayton  uses  the  same  expression, 
Polyolbion,  Song,  xxviii. 

41  64.  Daughter  of  Locrine.  Cf.  above,  p.  39.  The  old  genealogy 
derives  the  descent  of  Brute  or  Brutus,  father  of  Locrine,  from  ^neas 
and  Anchises. 

41  66.  Brimmed.  Rising  to  the  brim  or  margin.  Cf  Lucretius,  ii. 
362 :  "  Fluminaque  ilia  queunt,  suniniis  labentia  I'tpis." 

41  75.  Beryl  .  .  .  golden  ore  .  .  .  groves  of  myrrh  and  cinnamon. 
The  fanciful  beauty  of  these  charges  invoked  to  bless  an  English  stream 
is  in  the  best  vein  of  that  poetical  mythology  which  is  one  of  the 
charms  of  the  poetry  of  Michael  Drayton. 

42  1.  To  the  ocean  now  I  fly,  etc.  These  four  lines  are  in  the  very 
rhythm  and  rhyme  of  the  first  four  in  Ariel's  song  in  the  Tempest,  v.  i  : 

Where  the  bee  sucks,  there  lurk  I   (Masson). 

42  4.  Broad  fields  of  the  sky.  Cf.  yEneid,  vi.  887  :  "Aeris  in  cam- 
pis  latis  "  (Warton). 


246  MO  TES. 

42  7.  Hesperus,  and  his  daughters.  It  was  in  the  garden  of  the 
Hesperides  that  the  golden  apples,  given  Juno  as  a  marriage  gift,  were 
watched  by  the  dragon  Ladon. 

42  15.  Cedarn.  Cf.  the  similar  form  azum,  40  35,  possibly  both  of 
them  due  to  their  Italian  forms  azziirrifio  and  cedrino. 

42  18.     Blow.      Cause  to  blow.     Cf.  Shakespeare  Gramtiiar,  §  291. 

42  19.     Flowers.     Dissyllabic.     Cf.  88  11. 

42  20.  Purfled.  Fringed,  embroidered  with  colors  or  gold  (Fr. 
pourfiler).     Cf.   Faery  Queen,  i.   2.  33  :  "  Purfled  with  gold." 

42  27.  Th'  Assyrian  queen.  Astarte,  identified  with  Venus,  as  her 
lover,  Thammuz,  was  identified  with  Adonis.  Cf.  Paradise  Lost,  i. 
446,  and  Ezekiel,  VIII,  12-14.  See  Masson's  Milton,  iii.  434,  for  an 
elaborate  note  on  this  passage  in  its  relation  to  the  entire  poem 
of  C omits. 

43  42.     Corners  of  the  moon.     Cf.  Macbeth,  iii.  5.  23  (Warton). 

43  46.  Sphery  chime.  Cf.  Arcades,  63-73,  and  Masson's  note 
thereon,  III,  392. 

43.  Thomas  Carew  is  described  as  a  somewhat  indolent  student 
while  at  Oxford,  "  roving  after  hounds  and  hawks,"  later  in  the  diplo- 
matic service,  and  finally,  on  attracting  the  notice  of  Charles  I,  sewer 
(i.e.,  cupbearer)  in  ordinary  and  gentleman  of  the  privy  chamber  to  that 
monarch.  Carew's  intimate  Hterary  friends  were  Suckling  and  Uavenant. 
The  text  of  Carew  is  from  the  reprint  of  the  ed.  of  1640,  Edinburgh, 
1824,  collated  with  Hazlitt's  unsatisfactory  ed.  of  1870. 

43.  The  Marigold.  This  poem  is  referable  to  the  Wyburd  MS., 
written  about  1634  (HazUtt's  Carew,  p.  xv)  and  there  given  this  title. 
In  the  ed.  of  1640  it  appears  with  the  title  Boldttess  in  Love. 

\\.  Thomas  Randolph,  after  an  honorable  career  as  a  student  pen- 
sioner at  Trinity,  Cambridge,  went  up  to  London  and  was  adopted  one 
of  the  "sons  of  Ben."  Randolph  died  young,  more  reputed  for  his 
promise  than  for  actual  achievement.  Anthony  Stafford,  to  whom  this 
poem  is  addressed,  was  a  notable  prose  writer  in  his  day.  His  most 
important  book  was  Stafford's  Heavenly  Dog,  or  the  Life  and  Death  of 
the  Cynic  Diogenes,  161 5.  Stafford's  Niobe,  or  his  Age  of  Tears,  i6ii, 
and  Stafford's  A^iobe  dissolved  into  a  Nihis  were  earlier  works,  both 
of  them  "  a  general  invective  against  vice  and  a  laudation  of  virtue." 
See  Collier's  Rarest  Books  in  the  English  Language,  IV,  90,  for  a  fur- 
ther account  of  Stafford's  work.  I  take  the  text  of  Randolph's  poems 
from  the  original  quarto,  Oxford,  1638. 

44  4.     Charge'ble.     Expensive  and  burdensome. 

44  16.     Puisne  of  the  Inns-of-Court.     A  junior  student  in  the  law 


NOTES.  247 

courts,  a  freshman.  Cf.  Cowley,  A  Poetical  Revenge,  Sylva,  ed.  Grosart, 
p.  26  :  "A  semi-gentleman  of  the  Inns  of  Court." 

45  23.  No  finger  lose.  An  allusion  to  the  poet's  loss  of  a  finger  in 
a  fray.     See  his  Epigratn,  ed.  Hazlitt,  p.  553. 

45  32.  Hyde  Park,  originally  a  game  preserve,  became  a  fashionable 
promenade  in  the  reign  of  Charles  II.     See  Shirley's  play  I/yde  Park. 

45  36.  The  beauties,  etc.  The  Cheap,  now  Cheapside,  was  the 
principal  retail  street  of  old  London.  Lombard  Street  contained  the 
financial  wealth  of  the  city  and  the  homes  of  some  of  the  most  substan- 
tial citizens. 

46  76.  Barkley's  health.  Possibly  capable  of  indentification  with 
Sir  John  Berkley,  Governor  of  Exeter,  to  whom  Herrick  addresses 
spirited  lines,  ed.  Grosart,  II,  250. 

46  78.  Phrygian  melody.  The  text  sufficiently  suggests  the  con- 
trast between  the  wild  and  orgiastic  music  of  Phrygia  and  the  sombre 
and  dignified  Doric. 

47  20.  Leave.  Cease.  Cf.  Drayton,  "  To  his  Coy  Mistress,"  Eliza- 
bethan Lyrics,  p.  196. 

48.  The  Arcadian  Princess,  a  prose  romance,  "  was  translated," 
says  Mr.  Bullen,  "from  the  Italian  of  Mariano  Silesio,  a  Florentine, 
who  died  in  1368." 

48.  Themista's  reproof.  This  piling  up  of  similitudes  is  a  device 
common  to  a  large  group  of  verses  of  this  time.  Among  the  earliest  is 
the  poem  beginning  "  Like  to  the  falUng  of  a  star,"  attributed  to  Beau- 
mont, for  which  see  Elizabet/iatt  Lyrics,  p.  170.  The  lines  of  the  text 
are  scarcely  more  than  a  mock  lyric,  and  yet  some  of  the  similitudes  are 
so  apt  and  the  whole  thing  is  so  characteristic  that  I  should  hesitate  to 
omit  it. 

48  u.     Mopping.     Doating;  a  mop  was  a  fool. 
48  14.     Minion.     Darling. 

49.  Poems,  1645.  There  are  three  editions  of  Waller's  poems 
bearing  this  date :  (i)  that  "  printed  for  Thomas  Walkley  "  and  entitled 
The  IVorks  of  Edmond  Waller,  denounced  in  the  advertisement  which 
appears  in  both  (2)  and  (3)  as  an  "  adulterate  copy,  surreptitiously  and 
illegally  imprinted  to  the  derogation  of  the  author  and  the  abuse  of  the 
buyer  "  ;  {2)  that  printed  for  H.  Moseley  by  I.  N. ;  and  (3)  that  printed 
for  the  same  publisher  by  T.  W.  Mr.  G.  Thorn  Drury,  the  most  recent 
editor  of  Waller,  states  that  (i)  is  "full  of  misprints,"  and  that  (3)  con- 
sists "of  the  sheets  of  (i)  bound  up  with  a  fresh  title  and  the  addition 
of  the  last  seven  poems  contained  in  {3)."  He  is  further  of  the  opinion 
that    none  of   these    editions    "  had  the    countenance  of   the  author " 


248  NOTES. 

(Dniry's  Waller,  p.  277).    In  1664  appeared  the  poet's  own  authoritative 
edition.     Waller's  popularity  had  by  this  time  become  very  great. 

49.  Lady  Lucy  Sidney  was  a  younger  sister  of  the  more  famous 
Lady  Dorothea,  Waller's  Saccharissa.  The  title  is  found  iu  the  first 
ed.  of  1645.  I  assign  the  probable  composition  of  this  and  the  follow- 
ing two  poems  to  1635,  when  the  Lady  Dorothea  was  some  eighteen 
years  of  age.     Fenton's  date,  1632,  is  too  early. 

49  8.  May  know  too  soon.  This  is  Fenton's  reading;  Drury  reads 
so  soon. 

49  13.  Hope  waits  upon  the  flowery  prime.  Cf.  Cicero,  De  Senec- 
tute,  70. 

50.  Saccharissa  and  Amoret.  Saccharissa  was  Lady  Dorothea 
Sidney,  eldest  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Leicester  and  grand  niece  to  Sir 
Philip  Sidney.  Amoret  has  been  identified  by  the  diligence  of  Fenton 
as  Lady  Sophia  Murray.  Waller  is  generally  supposed  to  have  begun 
the  stately  courtship  of  his  Saccharissa  about  the  year  1632.  Drury 
places  this  later,  "towards  the  end  of  the  year  1635."  The  episode 
was  at  an  end  in  July,  1639,  when  Lady  Sidney  became  Lady  Spencer. 
The  poems  that  connect  the  names  of  Waller  and  Saccharissa  are  very 
few  in  number,  and  more  has  been  made  of  them  than  seems  at  all 
warranted  by  the  circumstances.  The  genuineness  of  the  poet's  passion 
does  not  concern  us ;  his  verses  warrant  the  assumption  that  the  matter 
was  not  very  serious.  See  Drury,  Poems  of  Waller,  Introduction,  and 
Mr.  Gosse's  From  Shakespeare  to  Pope  on  this  subject. 

50  8.     Neither.     Ed.  of  1645  reads  neither' s. 

50  10.     Still  beguilM.     Ever  beguiled.     Cf.  5  9,  33  12. 

50  15.     Decline.     Avoid. 

52  39.  Amoret  as  sweet.  Drury  punctuates :  "  Amoret  !  as  sweet," 
etc.  "  Amoret['s]  as  sweet,"  etc.,  may  be  conjectured  as  possibly  the 
right  reading.  Professor  Kittredge  suggests  :  "  Amoret  is  sweet,"  etc., 
the  ordinary  ellipsis  of  as. 

53.  Francis  Quarles.  "  This  voluminous  saint,"  as  Campbell  calls 
him,  was  successively  cupbearer  to  the  queen  of  Bohemia,  chronologer 
to  the  city  of  London,  and  secretary  in  Ireland  to  Archbishop  Usher. 
Despite  his  diffuseness,  extravagant  hunting  of  conceit,  and  inequality, 
Quarles  is  not  un visited  at  moments  by  the  fancy  of  a  true  poet,  and 
there  is  an  ingenuousness  and  fervor  about  him  that  goes  far  to  account 
for  his  all  but  unexampled  contemporary  popularity.  Quarles  wrote 
much  prose  besides  his  extensive  verse,  all  of  which  Dr.  Grosart  has 
reprinted  in  his  edition  in  the  Chertsey  Worthies'  Libraiy,  18S1. 

53.     Emblems  is  a  series  of  five  books  of  quasi-allegorical  devotional 


NOTES.  24  Q 

poems,  in  which  a  scriptural  text  is  taken  as  the  subject — or  at  least 
the  point  of  departure.  A  fitting  quotation  from  some  one  of  the  saints 
or  fathers  of  the  church  follows,  and  a  short  epigram  concludes.  This 
work  is  modelled,  if  not  largely  borrowed,  from  Herman  Hugo's  Pia 
Desideria  Ei}ible77iatibiis,  Elegiis  et  Affectibits  SS.  Patruvi  Illustrata, 
Antwerp,  1624,  and  illustrated  by  extraordinary  allegorical  cuts,  also 
of  Dutch  origin.  This  poem  is  the  third  of  the  fifth  book.  The  text 
is  from  Canticles,  II,  16. 

53.  0  whither  shall  I  fly  ?  /,'/-,  XIV,  13.  From  the  third  book 
of  Emblems,  No.  XII. 

53  12.  Clip.  Move  swiftly,  a  favorite  word  with  Quarles.  Cf. 
Emblems,  v.   13,   17,  and  34. 

53  13.     Entertain.     Harbor. 

54  yi.     Ingenuous  is  Grosart's  reading  ;  other  editions  read  ingenious. 

55  1.  Ev'n  like  two  little  bank-dividing  brooks.  Cf.  two  very 
diverse  uses  of  the  same  figure  of  a  stream  in  Cartvvright's  poem.  Love 
btit  One,  below,  p.  97,  and  Jean  Ingelow's  verses  entitled  Divided. 

55  ,').  Conjoin  .  .  .  mine.  A  perfect  rhyme  in  Quarles'  time  and 
long  after.  Cf.  coiit  and  mitie,  below,  vv.  17,  18;  and  see  the  same 
rhyme  in  Carew,  below,  71  27. 

55  18.  The  world 's  but  theirs,  etc.  Note  that  this  line  alone  of 
those  concluding  each  stanza  fails  of  the  required  Alexandrine  length. 
The  verse  of  Quarles,  like  that  of  Wither,  shows  not  infrequent  evi- 
dence of  a  fatal  facility.  Professor  Kittredge  suggests  regarding  theirs 
as  dissyllabic  and  inserting  best  before  beloved's  in  conformity  with  the 
other  concluding  lines. 

55  19.  Thespian  ladies.  From  Thespiae,  the  native  town  of  Phryne, 
where  was  preserved  the  celebrated  statue  of  Eros  by  Praxiteles. 

56.  George  Sandys  was  much  admired  in  his  own  day  for  his  devo- 
tional poetry,  although  few  of  his  verses  were  more  than  translations, 
such  as  the  Psalms  of  David,  A  Paraphrase  of  the  Book  of  fob,  Eccle- 
siastes.  Son  of  an  archbishop,  Sandys  received  the  best  education  which 
Oxford,  the  court,  and  foreign  travel  could  give.  Of  his  travels,  which 
were  very  extensive,  he  published  an  account  upon  his  return  in  161 5, 
and  the  book  enjoyed  a  great  popularity.  While  in  the  colony  of  Vir- 
ginia, 1623,  as  the  Company's  treasurer,  he  translated  Ovid's  Metamor- 
phoses. Sandys  was  a  personal  friend  of  Charles  I  and  highly  esteemed 
by  that  king.  He  was  held  in  great  respect  by  the  critics  of  the  days 
of  Dryden  and  Pope. 

56.  Deo  Optimo  Maximo.  This  poem  concludes  the  volume  of 
Sandys'  poems  published  in  164 1,  and  displays  his  versification  at  its  best. 


250  NOTES. 

56  4.  Steadfast  centre  of  the  world.  Sandys  had  evidently  not 
accepted  the  Copernican  system;  Bacon  never  did.  Cf.  v.  9,  below, 
and  Waller's  figure,  above,  6  12. 

57  26.     Successive.     Uninterrupted. 

58  54.  Panchaea.  District  in  the  neighborhood  of  Mecca,  men- 
tioned with  a  reference  to  Ovid,  Meta.  i.  10,  in  the  Travels,  fourth  ed., 
1670,  p.  97.  Sandys  does  not  seem  to  have  been  nearer  to  Mecca  than 
Cairo. 

58  55.    New  found-out  world.    Virginia.    See  note  on  Sandys,  above. 

58  62.  Judah's  hill.  The  third  book  of  the  Travels  is  devoted  to 
his  journeyings  in  the  Holy  Land,  including  his  visit  to  the  Temple  of 
Christ's  sepulchre.  The  allusions  of  the  succeeding  lines  are  not  trace- 
able in  the  Travels,  which  are  written  very  impersonally. 

59  83.     Pirates.     A  very  real  peril  in  1610. 

59.  Abraham  Cowley.  A  poet  in  print  at  fifteen,  Cowley  witnessed 
the  third  edition  of  his  Poetical  Blossoms  before  he  had  been  a  year  at 
college.  Ejected  from  Cambridge  for  his  royalist  leanings,  after  a  short 
stay  at  Oxford  he  entered  the  service  of  Queen  Henrietta  Maria,  retir- 
ing with  her  to  Paris  on  the  surrender  of  the  king.  There  it  was  that 
he  found  his  college  intimate,  Crashaw,  in  penury  and  sent  him  with  a 
royal  introduction  to  Rome.  Cowley,  whose  life  was  cleanly,  religious, 
and  somewhat  austere,  was  neglected  by  Charles  at  the  Restoration,  but 
was  repaid  at  his  death  by  a  royal  bon  mot.  If  Cowley's  poetry  was 
soon  eclipsed  by  a  new,  dominant  mode,  and  his  loyalty  interpreted 
largely  a  matter  of  sentiment,  his  honesty,  his  unaffected  love  of  litera- 
ture, and  his  genuine  scholarship  deserve  a  respectful  remembrance. 

59.  A  Vote.  An  ardent  wish,  a  vow.  This  is  the  title  of  this 
poem  in  Sylva,  an  early  volume  of  Cowley's  verse.  The  stanzas  here 
given  are  only  the  last  three,  which  the  author  himself  selected  for 
quotation  in  his  Several  Discourses  by  way  of  Essays  in  Verse  and 
Prose,  1 661.  I  have  given  the  later  readings,  which  improve  the  text 
in  two  or  three  small  particulars.  Cowley  says :  "  The  beginning  of 
it  is  boyish,  but  of  this  which  I  here  set  down  (if  a  very  little  were  cor- 
rected) I  should  hardly  now  be  much  ashamed  "  (Several  Discourses, 
ed.  1680,  p.  143). 

59  5.     Unknown.     Sylva  version  reads  ignote. 

59  7.     Have.     Sylva,  hug. 

59  15.  And  pleasures  yield.  .A.nd  my  garden  should  yield  pleasures 
which  Horace  might  envy. 

59  17.  Thus  would  I  double,  etc.  "  You  may  see  by  it,"  says 
Cowley,  "  I  was  even  then  acquainted  with  the  poets,  for  the  conclusion 


NOTES.  251 

is  taken  out  of  Horace."  Cf.  Several  Discourses,  p.  144.  Indeed,  the 
whole  tone  of  these  delightful  essays  is  that  of  a  gracious  Epicureanism. 
Again  and  again  does  Cowley  return  to  the  pleasant  theme,  paraphras- 
ing Horace  or  Claudian's  Old  Man  of  Verona. 

60  6.  Track.  Tract  is  the  reading  of  Sylva,  ed.  Grosart ;  tract  and 
track  were  commonly  confused. 

60  7.     Fond.     Foolish. 

60  15.     Horse.     Pack-horse. 

61.  Sir  John  Suckling  inherited  wealth  and  high  social  position 
when  but  eighteen  years  of  age.  He  soon  plunged  into  the  gayest  and 
wildest  of  lives,  and  became  no  less  famous  for  his  verses  and  his  wit 
than  notorious  for  his  lavish  extravagance,  inveterate  gaming,  and  dis- 
solute life.  Suckling  was  not  conspicuous  for  his  bravery  either  in  the 
field  against  the  Scotch  or  in  private  life.  A  loyalist  by  right  of  his 
birth,  he  was  accused  of  scheming  to  save  Strafford,  and  fled  the  realm, 
cutting  the  thread  of  an  ill-spent  life  by  his  awn  hand  in  Paris  when  less 
than  thirty-five  years  old.  As  a  writer  of  vers  de  societe,  delightful,  dar- 
ing and  cynical,  perfectly  well-bred,  and  at  times  of  the  highest  artistic 
merit,  Suckling  at  his  best  was  unexcelled  in  his  age.  See  Lord  de 
Tabley's  fine  poem,  "On  a  Portrait  of  Sir  John  Suckling"  (^Poems  Dra- 
matic and  Lyrifal,  1893),  i'^  which  Suckling  is  perversely,  though  poet- 
ically, glorified  as  the  ideal  soldier  and  gentleman,  as  well  as  the  typical 
poet  of  an  age  which  Lord  de  Tabley  appears  to  believe  was  far  better 
than  ours. 

61.  Aglaura  was  acted  at  Blackfriars.  Suckling  bestowed  eight 
or  ten  new  suits  on  the  players  upon  the  occasion,  an  unheard-of 
liberality. 

61.  Why  so  pale.  This  is  the  very  perfection  of  the  bantering, 
satirical  lyric,  in  which  the  age  of  Charles  excelled.  Cf.  Cotton's  poem. 
Advice. 

In  a  school  edition  of  "  The  Cavalier  Poets,"  a  prudent  American 
Bowdler  has  expunged  the  last  line  of  this  poem,  lest  the  infant  mind 
be  polluted  by  the  wicked  freedom  of  old  Sir  John's  Muse. 

61.  True  Love.  This  poem  exhibits  the  direct  influence  of  Donne. 
Cf.  Lovers  Growth  : 

I  scarce  believe  my  love  to  be  so  pure 

As  I  had  thought  it  was, 

Because  it  doth  endure 
Vicissitude  and  season  as  the  grass ; 
Methinks  I  lied  all  winter  when  I  swore, 
My  love  was  infinite,  if  spring  make  it  more. 


252  NOTES. 

62  1.  Ah  Ben.  Herrick  left  Cambridge  in  1620;  he  went  to  Dean 
Prior  in  1629.  In  this  interval,  and  perhaps  before,  he  must  have 
enjoyed  the  convivial  circle  of  Jonson  and  have  taken  him  for  his 
master.  Cf.  vi^ith  the  spirit  of  this  poem,  A  Lyric  to  Mirth,  To  live 
merrily,  and  to  trust  to  good  verses.  An  Ode  to  Sir  Clipseby  Crew,  etc., 
Selections  from  Herrick,  by  Professor  Hale,  Athenaeum  Press  Series, 
pp.  19,  31,  and  92,  whose  assignment  of  date  I  follow. 

62  5.  The  Sun,  the  Dog,  the  Triple  Tun.  Names  of  London 
taverns  of  the  day.  The  Sun  was  in  Fish  Street  Hill  and  continued 
noted  up  to  the  time  of  Pepys ;  the  Dog  was  in  the  vicinity  of  White- 
hall and  Westminster  Hall,  and  much  frequented  by  the  Tribe  of  Ben ; 
the  Three  Tuns  was  in  Guildhall  Yard,  and  was  famous  later  as  the 
tavern  at  which  General  Monk  lodged  in  1660  {London  Past  and 
Present,  s.v.). 

63  3.  Candies  the  grass.  Cf.  Drayton's  Quest  of  Cinthia,  BuUen's 
Selections,  1883,  p.  109: 

Since  when  those  frosts  that  winter  brings 
Which  candies  every  green. 

Cf.  also  Browne's  Britannia''s  Pastorals,  I,  p.  4  (Fry). 

63  6.  A  sacred  birth  to  the  dead  swallow.  Sacred  is  the  reading 
of  the  reprint  of  the  edition  of  1640,  Edinburgh,  1824,  and  of  the  two 
other  editions  which  I  have  consulted.  It  may  be  suspected  that  Carew 
wrote  a  second  birth  in  allusion  to  the  popular  superstition  concerning 
the  hibernation  of  swallows,  by  which  they  are  supposed  to  hang  in 
caves  or  lie  in  clinging  masses,  plunged  in  water  under  the  ice  to  revive 
with  the  return  of  spring  or  by  means  of  artificial  heat.  See  Timbs' 
Popular  Errors  Explained  and  Notes  and  Queries,  Series  I,  XII,  512, 
and  Series  III,  VI,  539,  403. 

64  24.  June  in  her  eyes,  in  her  heart  January.  Cf.  with  this  fine 
conceit  Greene's  lines  in  Perimedes  the  Blacksmith,  ed.  Grosart,  VII,  90 : 

Fair  is  my  love  for  April  in  her  face, 

Her  lovely  breasts  September  claims  his  part. 

And  lordly  July  in  her  eyes  takes  place, 
But  cold  December  dwelleth  in  her  heart. 

Another  version  is  found  in  Morley's  First  Book  of  Madrigals,  1 594. 
Oliphant  suggests  an  Italian  origin. 

64.  Persuasions  to  Love.  This  poem  is  addressed  to  A.  L.  in  the 
original.  Mr.  Saintsbury  declares  that  it  is  "  an  unwearying  delight " 
to  read  it.  See  the  rest  of  his  appreciative  comment  on  Carew  {Eliza- 
bethan Literature,  p.  361). 


NOTES.  253 

64  2.  Fresh  as  April.  MS.  reads  "  Fair  as  Helen,  fresh  as  May" 
(Hazlitt). 

65  39.     Abron.      A  variant  of  auburn. 

65  49.  To  your  friend.  For,  or  as,  your  friend.  See  Shakespeare 
Grammar,  §  189. 

65  51.     Still.     Ever.     Cf.  5  9,  33  12,  50  10. 

66  63.     Pined.     Wasted  away.     Cf.  Fletcher's  The  Sea  Voyage,  ii.  2  : 

I  left  in  yonder  desert 
A  virgin  almost  pined. 

66  80.     Do  reason.     Act  reasonably. 

67  13.     The  Assyrian  king.     Nebuchadnezzar,  Daniel,  III,  5,  6. 

68  1.     Quick.     Living. 

69  6.  Fortress.  Cf.  this  and  the  third  stanza  below  with  Suckling's 
verses,  The  Siege,  below,  p.  108. 

70.  Celia  Singing.  Cf.  with  this  Song,  Campion's  Of  Corinna's 
Singing  and  Marvell's  The  Fair  Singer,  below,  p.  157. 

70  1.  Fair  copy.  Cf.  an  imitation  of  this  poem  in  Holburn-Drollery, 
1673,  p.  25. 

71  20.    The  stamp  of  kings  imparts  no  more.    Cf.  Burns : 

The  rank  is  but  the  guinea's  stamp, 
A  man  's  a  man  for  a'  that. 

I  notice  that  Mr.  Richard  Le  Gallienne,  following  a  correspondent  of 
Notes  and  Queries,  Series  II,  VII,  184,  mentions  this  parallel  in  his 
appreciative  little  review  of  Carew  {Retrospective  Reviews,  II,  80). 

73.  Epitaph.  Carew  wrote  several  epitaphs  of  much  grace,  espe- 
cially the  three  on  the  Lady  Mary  Villiers.  I  have  preferred  this  on 
Lady  Mary,  daughter  of  Sir  Thomas  Wentworth,  as  more  character- 
istic, if  fuller  of  conceits. 

73  6.    A  cherubin.     Cf.  30  5. 

74  3.  Beauty's  orient  deep.  This  is  the  reading  of  the  reprint  of 
1640,  the  word  being  spelled  beantie''s.  The  apostrophe  was,  of  course, 
not  in  the  original,  and  might  be  placed  so  as  to  read  beauties'.  Mr. 
Saintsbury  reads  For  in  your  beauties,  orient  deep. 

74  11.  Dividing.  Performing  music,  especially  with  divisions  or 
variations. 

74  18.  Phoenix.  The  allusions  to  this  famous  myth  throughout  the 
literature  of  this  and  the  previous  century  are  legion.  The  story  seems 
to  have  been  introduced  into  the  literatures  of  Western  Europe  in  the 
Elegia  de  Phcenice,  a  poem  of  the  third  century,  usually  attributed  to 


254  NOTES. 

Lactantius.  Lactantius  had  as  his  chief  source  the  version  of  the  legend 
by  Manilius,  which  is  now  lost,  but  was  extant  in  the  fourteenth  cen- 
tury. See  in  later  literature  The  Phcenix  and  the  Turtle,  1601  ;  Browne's 
Song  of  the  Siretts ;  and  Herrick's  Nuptial  Song  to  Sir  Clipseby  Crew. 

75.     Murdering  Beauty .  This  poem  appears  also  in  ^//'^.^^cr^fl^w/j-. 

75  6.  Murderers.  Cannon  loaded  with  scattering  missiles,  and  so 
called  from  their  infliction  of  superfluous  death. 

75.  Delight  in  Disorder  and  the  poem  immediately  following  are 
assigned  to  the  earlier  part  of  Herrick's  vicarage  at  Dean  Prior.  In 
1640  he  was  probably  in  London,  arranging  for  the  publication  of  his 
poems,  for  in  that  year  there  is  a  stationer's  register  of  The  Several 
Poems  written  by  Master  Robert  Herrick.  The  book  does  not  appear 
to  have  come  to  press. 

75  1.  A  sweet  disorder,  etc.  Cf.  Upon  Julia's  Clothes  and  Upon 
Julia'' s  Ribband,  Herrick,  ed.  Hale,  pp.  112  and  20.  See  also  Jonson's 
Simplex  Munditiis,  Herrick's  probable  original,  and  the  dainty  verses 
beginning :  "  My  love  in  her  attire  doth  show  her  wit,"  in  Davison's 
Poetical  Rhapsody  {Elizabethan  Lyrics,  pp.  151  and  127). 

75  2.     Wantonness.     Sportiveness. 

75  4.     Distractibn.     Confusion.     Cf.  37  20. 

75  5.     Erring.     In  its  original  signification,  wandering. 

75  12.     Civility.     Good  breeding. 

75  13.     Do  more  bewitch  me,  etc.     Cf.  Jonson  : 

Such  sweet  neglect  more  taketh  me 
Than  all  th'  adulteries  of  art ; 

and  Herrick's  own  charming  lines  : 

Whenas  in  silks  my  Julia  goes, 

Then,  then,  methinks,  how  sweetly  flows. 

That  liquefaction  of  her  clothes. 

Next,  when  I  cast  mine  eyes,  and  see 
That  brave  vibration  each  way  free ; 
Oh,  how  that  glittering  taketh  me ! 

76.  To  the  Virgins.  This  song  was  early  set  to  music  by  Lawes 
and  enjoyed  great  popularity.  It  appears  in  an  early  ed.  of  Wifs 
Recreations. 

77  5.     Teemed.     Poured  out. 

78  2.  Protestant.  Queried  protester  by  Dr.  Grosart.  To  which 
Professor  Hale  adds  :  '^ His  Protestation  to  Perilla  gives  us  the  prob- 
able meaning.     He  will  live  to  assert  his  devotion  to  her." 


NOTES.  255 

79.  To  Meadows.  Cf.  Vaughan's  The  Hidden  Flower,  below,  p. 
147. 

79  6.     Wicker  arks.     Baskets. 

79  8.     Richer.     More  golden  in  color. 

79  10.  In  a  round.  Dancing.  Cf.  the  poet's  The  Country  Life : 
"  Tripping  the  homely  country  round." 

79  20.     Estates.     Conditions. 

81  15.    Brave.     Cf.  34  5. 

81  6.  My  Prue.  Prudence  Baldwin,  immortalized  for  her  fidelity 
by  her  master  in  this  and  in  other  verses: 

These  summer  birds  did  with  thy  master  stay 
The  times  of  warmth,  but  then  they  flew  away, 
Leaving  their  poet,  being  now  grown  old, 
Expos'd  to  all  the  coming  winter's  cold. 
But  thou,  kind  Prue,  did'st  with  my  fates  abide 
As  well  the  winter's  as  the  summer's  tide ; 
For  which  thy  love,  live  with  thy  master  here, 
Not  one,  but  all  the  seasons  of  the  year. 

81  10.  Creaking.  Cackling.  Harrison  says  of  geese  :  "  It  is  ridicu- 
lous to  see  how  they  will  peep  under  the  doors,  and  never  leave  off 
ereahing  and  gaggling,  etc.  {^Elizabethan  Efiglatzd,  ed.  Camelot,  p.   163). 

82  24.     Miching.     Skulking. 

82  26.     Tracy.     Herrick's  dog,  of  which  he  writes : 

Now  thou  art  dead,  no  eye  shall  ever  see, 
For  shape  and  service,  spaniel  like  to  thee. 

83  7.     Ward.     Protect. 

83  22.  Unfled.  Undamaged  by  mould.  A  Shropshire  word,  accord- 
ing to  Halliwell. 

83  28.     Pulse.     Peas  or  beans. 

84  31.  The  worts,  the  purslane.  Wort  is  an  old  generic  term  for 
vegetable ;  purslane  was  formerly  used  in  salads  and  for  garnishing. 

84  39.  Wassail  bowls.  The  wassail  bowl  was  compounded  of 
spiced  ale  and  drunk  amongst  friends  and  neighbors  on  New  Year's 
Eve  in  good  fellowship  and  for  the  drowning  of  former  animosity. 
The  custom  continued  long  in  the  greatest  popularity.  See  Brand's 
Popular  Afitiquities,  ed.  1S13,  I,  i. 

84  42.     Soils.     Manures,  makes  fruitful. 

85.  Nox  Nocti,  etc.  Cf.  Psalms,  XIX.  "  The  heavens  declare  the 
glory  of  God ;  and  the  firmament  sheweth  his  handiwork."  This  verse 
forms  the  text  of  the  whole  poem. 


256  NOTES. 

85  3.     So  rich  with  jewels  hung,  etc.    Cf.  Romeo  and  Juliet,  i.  v.  47  : 

It  seems  she  hangs  upon  the  cheek  of  Night 
Like  a  rich  jewel  in  an  Ethiop's  ear. 

85  5.     My  soul  her  wings.     Cf.  Isaiah,  XL,  31. 

85  8.  In  the  large  volume  of  the  skies.  Cf.  Drummond's  "  fair 
volume  of  the  world  "  in  the  sonnet  entitled  The  Book  of  the  World, 
Elizabethan  Lyrics,  p.  205,  and  note  thereon. 

85  9.     For  the  bright  firmament.     Cf.  Psalm,  XIX,  i. 

8625.  That  from  the  farthest  north.  Ci.  Jeremiah,  I,  14,  ic„et 
passim,  and  Daniel,  XI,  13-15. 

86.  Cleodora  was  performed  at  Whitehall  before  the  king  and 
queen  by  the  Earl  of  Pembroke's  own  servants,  the  scenes  and  cos- 
tumes being  very  rich  and  curious. 

87.  The  Imposture.  I  assign  this  play,  with  Mr.  Fleay,  Biographical 
Chronicle  of  the  English  Drama,  II,  246,  to  1640,  because  of  the  line 
of  the  Prologue :  "  He  has  been  stranger  long  to  the  English  scene." 
Shirley  returned  permanently  from  Ireland  between  February  and  June, 
1640. 

88  n.     Flowers.     Dissyllabic. 

88  16.     Owe.     Own.     Cf.  Midsummer  Night'' s  Dream,  ii.  2.  79. 

88  5.  Each  shade,  etc.  As  the  sun  rises  the  shadows  of  the  earth, 
here  identified  with  earthly  things,  become  short,  and  our  attention  is 
turned  to  the  radiance  of  heaven.  If  we  wait  until  "  the  star  of 
peace"  sets,  we  must  lose  our  way  in  earthly  shadow. 

89.  The  Contention  of  Ajax  and  Ulysses.  This  masque  "  was 
represented  by  young  men  of  quality  at  a  private  entertainment." 

89  1.  The  glories  of  our  blood.  This  one  song  should  preserve 
Shirley  immortal. 

90.  His  Winding-Sheet.  I  follow  Professor  Hale  in  placing  this 
poem  before  1641,  in  which  year  the  Star  Chamber  alluded  to  was 
abolished.  Professor  Hale  calls  this  "  of  all  Herrick's  more  serious 
pieces,  the  chief,"  and  notes  the  remarkable  absence  in  it  of  "  any 
Christian  thought  on  immortality." 

90  19.     Cf.>^,  III,  iS,  19. 

90  29.     The  Court  of  Requests  was  also  abolished  in  1641. 

91  47.  The  Platonic  Year  is  that  wherein  everything  shall  return  to 
its  original  state,  the  year  in  which  the  cycles  of  the  seven  planets  are 
fulfilled  on  the  same  day.     Cf.  Plato,  Timcciis,  cap.  33  (Hale). 

91.  George  Wither.  As  to  this  fertile  and  worthy  pamphleteer  in 
verse  and  prose,  see  Elizabethan  Lyrics,  p.  281.     Although  Wither's 


NOTES.  257 

devotional  verse  began  with  The  Hymns  and  Songs  of  the  Church, 
1623,  his  best  work  of  the  kind  is  to  be  found  in  the  three  parts  of 
Halehciah.  Wither's  simplicity  of  diction  and  freedom  from  adorn- 
ment seem  better  suited  to  the  subject  of  the  poem  in  the  text  than  to 
some  of  his  more  ambitious  efforts.  No  one  who  knows  The  Shep- 
herd^s  Hunting  and  Fair  Virtue  can  for  a  moment  deny  the  poet  in 
Wither.  To  him  there  was  a  greater  mistress  than  art ;  but  instead  of 
enlisting  art  in  the  service  of  religion,  he  felt  that  her  ornaments  and 
gauds  were  to  be  discarded  as  among  the  deceitful  appearances  which 
lure  men  from  the  straight  and  narrow  way.  Though  kindly,  Wither 
is  thus  in  his  devotional  poetry  always  didactic. 

91.  A  Rocking  Hymn.  The  text  is  from  the  reprint  of  the  Spenser 
Society,  1879.  The  following  quaint  note  precedes  the  verses  :  "  Nurses 
usually  sing  their  children  asleep  and,  through  want  of  pertinent  matter, 
they  oft  make  use  of  unprofitable  (if  not  worse)  songs.  This  was  there- 
fore prepared  that  it  might  help  acquaint  them  and  their  nurse-children 
with  the  loving  care  and  kindness  of  their  Heavenly  Father." 

94.  William  Cartwright  was  one  of  the  "sons  of  Ben,"  a  writer  of 
plays  in  his  youth  while  at  Oxford,  a  priest  in  orders  after  1638.  His 
works,  posthumously  published,  are  preceded  by  more  than  fifty  pages 
of  commendatory  verse  amongst  the  writers  of  which  are  James  Howell, 
Sherburne,  Jasper  Mayne,  and  Alexander  Brome.  Ben  Jonson  is  reported 
in  the  preface  to  have  said,  "my  son,  Cartwright,  writes  hke  a  man." 
Cartwright  exhibited  great  promise  in  his  poetry,  and  not  inconsider- 
able achievement  in  his  dramas.  It  is  not  easy  to  select  many  poems 
which  are  entirely  good  from  Cartwright,  thcmgh  many  separate  stanzas 
or  lesser  passages  display  unusual  merit.  The  text  is  from  the  first  edi- 
tion, as  indicated  ;  1641  is  the  latest  date  assigned  to  any  poem  in  the  vol- 
ume.    These  erotic  songs  were  doubtless  written  several  years  earlier. 

94  5.     Sense.     Cf.  36  2. 

94  7.  Art  we  see.  Note  the  omission  of  that  and  cf.  Shakespeare 
Grammar,  §  281. 

96.  A  Valediction.  Few  poems  could  better  show  the  influence  of 
Donne's  subtle  intellectual  refinements  than  this  and  the  previous  one. 
Cartwright  at  his  best,  as  here,  seems  to  me  to  preserve  also  much  of 
Donne's  sincerity. 

96  12.  Nor  would  those  (the  showers)  fall  nor  these  (the  sun- 
beams) shine  forth  to  me. 

96  15.     Parting  view.     My  eyes  as  I  part  with  you. 

96  17.  Snatch  and  keep.  Take  eagerly  to  myself  and  preserve  in 
memory. 


258  NOTES. 

96  19.     Fancy.     Imagination. 

97  1.  See  these  two  little  brooks.  Cf.  one  of  the  best  of  Quarles' 
Emblenis,  v.  3,  above,  p.  55,  and  Jean  Ingelow's  Divided,  in  which  the 
idea  is  fully  expanded. 

97  13.     Presents.     Represents. 

98.  The  Sad  Lover.  I  do  not  succeed  in  finding  this  poem  else- 
where. The  original  edd.  of  Wit's  Reci-eations  are  not  accessible  to 
me.  From  the  reprint  of  Park,  1817,  it  appears  that  the  section  en- 
titled "  Fancies  and  Fantastics,"  in  which  this  poem  and  the  follow- 
ing are  found,  was  not  in  the  first  ed.  of  1640.  I  may  state  that  even 
the  enumeration  of  edd.  in  the  preface  of  this  unsatisfactory  book  is 
incorrect. 

98  6.     Straight.     Suddenly.     Cf.  164  3. 

98  17.  Epact.  The  epact  is  "  the  excess  of  a  solar  over  a  lunar  year 
or  month."  The  figure  is  here  applied  to  the  difference  between  what 
seems  to  be  the  seasonable  moment  in  which  to  court  and  what  is  really 
that  seasonable  moment.  See  the  stanza  above,  where  the  lover  longs 
for  "  some  almanac,"  etc.  Donne  is  the  parent  of  the  metaphysics  and 
the  physics  of  all  such  passages. 

99.  Richard  Crashaw  was  a  precocious  student  and  poet  while  at 
Cambridge.  In  1643  Crashaw  (with  five  others,  fellows  of  Peterhouse) 
lost  his  fellowship  because  he  refused  to  take  the  oath  of  the  Solemn 
League  and  Covenant.  Entering  the  priesthood  of  the  Roman  Cath- 
olic Church  he  was  recommended  to  Rome  by  Queen  Henrietta,  but 
died  soon  after  as  beneficiary  or  sub-canon  of  the  Basilica  church  of 
Our  Lady  of  Loreto. 

99.  Wishes  to  his  Supposed  Mistress.  I  have  given  the  text  of 
the  Harleian  MS.  of  this  poem.  The  vastly  inferior  version  in  Wit''s 
Recreations  shows  that  the  poem  was  well  known  in  1641.  How  much 
earlier  it  may  have  been  written,  or  whether  the  revision  came  after 
that  date,  it  is  impossible  to  say. 

99  2.  She.  The  common  use  of  the  pronoun  for  the  noun.  Cf. 
134  17,  182  10,  and  Shakespeare  Grammar,  §  224. 

99  18.     Tire.     Attire,  dress. 

99  20.  Taffeta  or  tissue.  Taffeta  was  a  fine,  smooth  silk  fabric  ; 
tissue,  a  cloth  interwoven  with  gold  or  silver. 

99  20.     Can.     Cf.  a  like  usage  of  this  verb,  2  3. 

100  25.  A  face  that 's  best  by  its  own  beauty  drest.  Cf.  Herrick's 
Delight  in  Disorder,  p.  75,  and  tlie  note  thereon. 

100  30.     Ope.     Open. 

100  33.     Writes  what  the  reader  sweetly  ru'th.     "  Depict  that 


NOTES.  259 

beauty  which  makes  the  beholder  suffer  the  sweet  sorrow  of  love  " 
(Kittredge). 

100  36.  His.  Its.  P'ormerly  neuter  as  well  as  masculine.  See 
Shakespeare  GratJiinar,  §  228,  and  cf.  99  17,  above. 

100  40.  Looks  that.  I.e.,  looks  that  oppress,  overpower  the  richest 
apparel  which  decks  them,  which  clothe  and  dress  up  the  barest 
costume. 

100  43.  Eyes  that  displace  .  .  .  out-face  .  .  .  grace.  This  is  Gro- 
sart's  reading  on  the  authority  of  the  Harleian  MS.  ;  Turnbull  prints, 
with  the  version  of  Wifs  Recreations : 

Eyes  that  displaces 

The  neighbor  diamond,  and  outfaces 

That  sunshine  by  their  own  sweet  graces. 

101  57.  Long  choosing  a  dart.  Long  finding  a  weapon  powerful 
enough  to  reach  so  well-controlled  (well-tamed)  a  heart. 

101  70.     Fond  and  flight.     Foolish  and  fleeting. 

101  74.     Those  [that]  are  shed.     Cf.  1  2,  4  6,  9  2,  18  5,  94  7. 

102  88.  Sydneian  showers  of  sweet  discourse.  Explained  by  Mr. 
Palgrave :  "  Either  in  allusion  to  the  conversations  in  the  Arcadia,  or 
to  Sidney  himself,  as  a  model  of  gentleness  in  spirit  and  demeanor  " 
{^Golden  Treasury,  p.  357). 

102  98.     Name.     Report,  fame. 

102  100.  Flattery,  etc.  Painting  and  poetry  may  flatter  her,  but 
let  her  own  virtue  be  her  sole  counsellor. 

102  103.  Store  of  worth,  etc.  I  wish  that  she  may  have  such  an 
abundance  of  worth  that  she  may  not  need  many  wishes  for  things  not 
already  in  her  possession. 

103  118.  Enjoy.  This  word  was  pronounced  in  Crashaw's  day  and 
long  after  so  as  to  rhyme  with  the  last  syllable  of  apply.  Cf.  coiit 
rhyming  with  resign,  71  25,  and   114  5. 

102  123.     Determine.     End  them,  resolve  them  into. 

103.  The  Merry  Beggars.  The  text  of  this  song  is  from  the 
reprint  of  Brome's  plays  by  Pearson,  1873.  It  seems  almost  too  good 
for  Brome.  In  the  same  play  a  song  is  introduced  which  is  undoubt- 
edly Campion's. 

104  16.  Remore  us.  Delay  us.  Cf.  remora,  the  creature  fabled  to 
delay  ships  by  attaching  itself  to  their  bottoms. 

104.  Lord  Strafford's  Meditations.  Occasional  lyrics  such  as  this, 
though  not  up  to  the  standard  of   the  highest   literary  art,  have  fre- 


260  NOTES. 

quently  a  genuineness  and  fervor  of  passion  that  brings  them  literally 
within  Wordsworth's  famous  designation  of  poetry  as  "  the  spontane- 
ous overflow  of  powerful  emotion."  A  large  and  interesting  collection 
of  such  applied  poetry  might  be  made  from  the  literature  of  the  six- 
teenth and  seventeenth  centuries.  Cf.  the  pieces  ascribed  to  Raleigh  in 
Hannah's  ed.  of  Raleigh  and  Wotton,  the  works  of  several  of  the  poets 
contained  in  Dr.  Grosart's  Fuller  Worthies'  Miscellanies,  and  Eliza- 
bethan Lyrics,  pp.   27,  94,  129,  and   188. 

105  33.  In  Thetis'  lap  he  lies.  In  allusion  to  the  deep  security 
which  one  might  enjoy  in  the  depths  of  the  sea. 

106  41.  Did  fly  in  Charles's  wain.  Charles's  wain,  like  the  dipper, 
was  a  popular  appellation  applied  to  the  cluster  of  seven  stars  in  the 
constellation  of  Ursa  Major.  The  play  upon  words  by  which  Charles's 
(the  King's)  wain  (wagon)  is  likened  to  the  chariot  of  the  Sun,  and 
Stafford's  "ambitious  wings"  to  the  audacious  act  of  Phaethon  in 
attempting  to  drive  his  father's  fiery  steeds,  is  as  apt  as  it  is  obvious. 
Cf.  the  similar  play  upon  words  in  The  Passionate  Mart's  Pilgrimage, 
where  Christ,  described  as  "the  King's  Attorney,  .  .  .  hath  angels,  but 
no  fees."  See  also  below,  106  63.  These  conceits  seem  not  the  result 
of  cool  ingenuity,  but  the  genuine  product  of  a  fancy  heightened  by 
momentary  excitement. 

106  52.  Glorious  seat.  Alike  the  exalted  position  of  the  star  and 
of  the  statesman  figured  forth  by  it. 

106  53.  Influence.  In  the  original  astrological  sense  of  the  word: 
"  The  effect  of  the  planets  in  determining  the  events  of  man's  life." 

107.  Fragmenta  Aurea,  a  Collection  of  all  the  Incomparable  Pieces 
written  by  Sir  John  Suckling,  was  the  title  under  which  the  poetry  of 
Suckling  was  published  posthumously.  I  have  before  me  the  third  ed. 
165S,  and  Langbaine  mentions  a  later  one  of  1676,  "  to  which  are  added 
several  poems  and  other  pieces,  which  were  by  his  sister's  permission 
allowed  to  be  published." 

108.  The  Siege.  The  figure  which  is  elaborated  in  this  poem  has 
been  frequently  employed  both  before  and  later.  In  Mr.  Arber's  Eng- 
lish Garner  (I,  pp.  74,  128,  460,  and  651)  will  be  found  several  parallels. 
Sedley's  song  in  Bellamira  beginning,  "  When  first  I  made  love  to  my 
Chloris,"  gives  us  another.  See  BuUen's  Musa  Proterva,  p.  84.  Cf. 
also  the  third  stanza  of  Carew's  A  Deposition  in  Love,  p.  69,  above, 
and  a  paper.  Notes  on  Lyrical  Poetry,  by  the  editor.  Modern  Language 
Notes,  April,  1S99. 

109  13.  I  brought  down  great  cannon-oaths,  and  shot  a  thousand 
...  to  the  town.     Thus  imitated  by  Sedley  : 


NOTES.  261 


Cannon-oaths  I  brought  down 
To  batter  the  town. 


Billets-doux  hke  small  shot  did  ply  her. 

109  31.  Honor  was  there.  Notice  the  emphasis  produced  by  the 
trochee  in  place  of  the  iambus. 

110  4.     Still.     Ever.     Cf.  5  9,  33  12,  50  lo,  65  51. 

112.  Song.     Cf.  Herrick,  To  CEnone,  ed.  Hale,  p.  So. 

112  15.     I'm  best  resolved.     I  have  found  a  solution. 

113.  When  the  assault,  etc.  This  is  Milton's  own  heading,  as 
appears  in  the  Cambridge  MS.,  the  words  "  On  his  door  when  the  city 
expected  an  assault "  having  been  crossed  out.  This  was  in  Novem- 
ber, 1642,  when  the  withdrawal  of  the  Parliamentary  forces  under 
Essex  to  Warwick  after  the  indecisive  skirmish  of  Edgehill  left  the 
road  to  the  capital  open  to  the  forces  of  Charles. 

113  5.  He  can  requite  thee.  Pattison  cites  several  parallels, 
among  them  Shakespeare's  Sonnets,  Iv,  Ixxxi ;   Drayton,  Idea,  sonnet  vi. 

113  5.     Charms.     Spells,  magical  effects. 

113  10.  Emathian  conqueror.  Alexander.  So  called  from  Ema- 
thia,  a  district  of  Macedonia,  the  original  seat  of  the  Macedonian 
monarchy. 

113  10.  Bid  spare,  etc.  This  story  is  told  by  Pliny,  Hist.  Nat.,  vii. 
29 ;  ^lian,  Var.  Hist.,  xiii.  7,  and  many  others.  Pattison  suggests 
that  Milton  had  it  from  the  Vita  Pindari  of  Thomas  Magister. 

113  13.  Sad  Electra's  poet.  Euripides.  His  tragedy  Electra  was 
produced  during  the  period  of  the  Sicilian  expedition,  415-413  B.C. 
Euripides  was  a  favorite  author  with  Milton. 

113  14.  To  save  the  Athenian  walls.  "  On  the  taking  of  Athens 
by  the  Lacedaemonians,  404  B.C.,  the  leaders  of  the  combined  Greek 
forces  deliberated  as  to  how  the  city  should  be  dealt  with.  The  The- 
bans  proposed  to  raze  it  to  the  ground  and  to  turn  the  site  into  a  sheep 
walk.  While  the  decision  was  in  suspense,  on  one  occasion  the  gen- 
erals were  at  wine  together,  and  it  so  happened  a  Phocian  sang  part  of 
a  chorus  of  the  Electra,  which  begins : 

.' Ayafi^fjivovo?  ai  Khpa,  rfXvdov  k.t.X.  (E/ectra,  167). 

Those  present  were  so  affected  that  they  agreed  it  would  be  an  un- 
worthy act  to  destroy  a  city  which  had  produced  such  noble  poets " 
(^lian,  Var.  Hist.,  xiii.  7.  Pattison). 

113.     Steps  to  the  Temple.      So  entitled  in  relation  to  The  Temple 


262  NOTES. 

of  George  Herbert.  Cf.  The  Preface,  To  the  Reader :  "  Reader,  we 
style  his  sacred  poems,  Steps  to  the  Temple,  and  aptly,  for  in  the  temple 
of  God,  under  his  wing  he  led  his  life  in  Saint  Mary's  Church  near 
Saint  Peter's  College;  there  he  lodged  under  Tertullian's  roof  of 
angels  ;  there  he  made  his  nest  more  gladly  than  David's  swallow  near 
the  house  of  God,  where  like  a  primitive  saint  he  offered  more  prayers 
in  the  night  than  others  usually  offer  in  the  day  :  there  he  penned  these 
poems,  steps  for  happy  souls  to  climb  heaven  by."  These  poems  were 
then  written  before  Crashaw's  loss  of  his  fellowship  in  1643. 

114  5.     Joy.     Cf.  103  118. 

114  5.  To  all  our  world  ...  he  slept.  Cf.  Shakespeare  Grammar, 
§  188  ;   we  still  say  :  "  Dead  to  the  world." 

114  21.  Thy  day  .  .  .  did  rise,  etc.  A  common  figure  in  the  erotic 
verse  of  the  time.  Cf.  Carew,  70  16  ;  Davenant,  184  12,  and  the  note 
thereon. 

115  38.     Starry.     Celestial  ;  a  favorite  word  with  Milton. 

115  44.     Contest.     For  the  accent,  cf.  Shakespeare  Grammar,  §  490. 
115  46.     Phoenix'.     Cf.  74  is. 

115  48.     Embraves.     Makes  beautiful. 

116  60.  For  well  they  now  can  spare  their  wing.  A  typical  con- 
ceit of  the  school  to  which  Crash  aw  belongs. 

116  78.  Welcome.  Though  born  neither  to  gold  nor  to  silk,  thou  art 
born  to  more  than  the  birthright  of  Caesar. 

116  80.  Two  sister  seas.  This  stanza  is  one  of  those  —  too  fre- 
quent in  Crashaw —  in  which  the  stroke  of  wing  fails,  and  the  song  falls 
earthward. 

117  84-89.  This  stanza  is  omitted  in  the  Paris  edition  of  1652.  See 
Introduction  to  this  volume,  p.  x.xxi. 

117  89.     Points.     Cf.  121  21,  and  Donne,  The  Ecstasy : 

Our  eye-beams  twisted  and  did  thread 
Our  eyes  upon  one  double  string. 

117  92.  Slippery  souls  in  smiling  eyes.  Notice  the  alliteration 
and  the  correspondence  of  sound  in  smiling  and  eyes. 

117  93.  Shepherds'  homespun  things.  This  is  the  reading  of 
Grosart. 

117  93.  Homespun.  Cf.  Shakespeare's  conversion  of  this  adjective 
into  a  noun,  Midsiim^ner  Night  'j  Dream,  iii.  1.79:  "  hempen  homespuns." 

118  8.     Silver  mate.     Cf.  silver  doves  above,  and  Psalms,  LXVIII, 

13- 

118  8.     Rise  up,  my  love.     Cf.  Solornoii's  Song,  II,  10-14. 


NOTES.  263 

118  90.  Or  quickly  would,  wert  thou  once  here.  It  is  interesting 
to  notice  this  classical  thread  —  in  allusion  to  the  springing  up  of  flow- 
ers about  the  footsteps  of  Spring  —  and  the  conceit,  except  so  much 
[rain]  as  we  detain  in  needful  tears,  etc.,  below,  woven  into  the  glowing 
fabric  of  the  old  Hebraic  poetry. 

120.  "  And  those  other  of  his  pieces,  intituled  The  Delights  of  the 
Muses,  though  of  a  more  human  mixture,  are  as  sweet  as  they  are  inno- 
cent" {To  the  Reader,  Crashaw,  ed.  1646). 

120  3.  Consults  the  conscious  spheres.  A  popular  belief  in  astrology 
was  still  prevalent  in  Crashaw's  day.  The  poets  are  full  of  such  allu- 
sions as  these,  91  47,  98  17,  106  52. 

120  12.     Love's  fortune-book.     The  book  of  Love's  fortune. 

121  17.  Love's  native  hours  were  set.  However  the  horoscope  of 
the  natal  hours  of   Love  was  arranged. 

121  18.  Starry  synod.  Assemblage  of  stars ;  the  position  of  the 
planets  with  reference  one  to  the  other  determined  the  particulars  of 
the  horoscope. 

121  21.  Sharp  rays,  putting  on  points.  Her  glances.  Cf.  Cra- 
shaw's use  of  the  word  point,  above.     Cf.  117  88. 

121  25.  Aspects.  The  aspect  was  "  the  relative  position  of  the 
heavenly  bodies  as  they  appear  to  an  observer  on  the  earth's  surface  at 
a  given  time"  (Murray).  Here  aspects  is  almost  equivalent  to  iitftu- 
ences. 

121  25.  Twined,  etc.  "  United  to  give  a  combined  influence  which 
was  extremely  favorable."  Cf.  Donne,  The  Ecstasy,  quoted  above, 
117  88. 

121  33.    Influence.     Cf.  106  53. 

121  36.     Black.     The  color  of  evil.     Cf.  128  16. 

122  52.  Love  shall  live,  although  he  die.  This  subtly  varied  refrain 
finds  its  original  in  "Donne.  Cf.  his  Lover''s  Infitiiteness,  Love''s  /iif)iite- 
ness,  The  Will,  The  Prohibition. 

122.  Sonnet.  The  lady  to  whom  this  sonnet  is  addressed  is  not 
known.  Philips  mentions  a  Miss  Davis,  whom  Milton  thought  of 
marrying  when  deserted  by  his  first  wife;  and  Pattison  quotes  a  sug- 
gestion "  that  the  virtues  celebrated  in  these  lines  were  those  which 
Milton  would  have  sought  for  in  a  wife."  Pattison  continues  of  this 
sonnet :  "  Imagery  here  is  the  hackneyed  biblical  allusion  ;  the  thought 
commonplace ;  the  language  ordinary ;  yet  it  will  hardly  be  denied  that 
the  effect  is  impressive.  ...  It  is  due  to  the  sense  that  here  is  a  true 
utterance  of  a  great  soul." 

122  2.    The  broad  way.     Matthew,  VII,  13. 


264  NOTES. 

122  2.  And  the  green.  Because  a  green  way  is  a  pleasant  one. 
Cf.  //  Penseroso,  66 ;  U Allegro,  58,  and  Shelley's  sonnet  beginning : 
"  Ye  hasten  to  the  dead." 

122  5.  Ruth.  The  perfect  rhyme  was  not  regarded  as  a  blemish  in 
Milton's  day. 

122  6.  Overween.  A  favorite  word  with  Milton,  Paradise  Lost,  x. 
878  ;  Paradise  Regained,  i.  147,  etc. 

122  11.    Hope  that  reaps  not  shame.     Romatis,  V,  5. 

122  12.     Feastful.      Cf.  Samson  Agotiistes,  1741. 

123.  To  Phyllis.  This  poem  appears  in  Wit's  Recreations  and  was 
set  to  music  in  VXa-yiord's  Select  Airs  and  Dialogues,  1659.  I  hesitate 
to  assign  a  date  to  any  of  Waller's  lyrics,  although  this  may  have 
been  written  as  early  as  1639,  considering  its  position  in  the  earlier 
editions  of  his  poems.  Waller  was  much  given  to  repolishing  and 
filing  his  verses  that  they  might  conform  to  the  poetical  standards 
which  prevailed  after  the  Restoration  —  standards  the  setting  up  of 
which  he  was  especially  emulous  to  have  generally  believed  to  have 
been  of  his  devising. 

123.  On  a  Girdle.  This  poem  appeared  first  in  an  appendix  to  the 
second  ed.  of  1645.     ^^  ^^'^-s  probably  written  not  long  before  that  date. 

124  5.  It  was.  Is  in  the  ed.  of  1645,  where  the  present  tense  is 
kept  up  through  the  poem. 

124  11,  12.     The  ed.  of  1645  reads : 

Give  me  but  what  this  riband  tied. 
Take  all  the  sun  goes  round  beside. 

See  also  the  Introduction,  p.  xxviii  f. 

124  9.  Thjrrsis'.  "  Thyrsis,  a  youth  of  the  inspired  train";  the 
name  assumed  by  Waller  in  his  poetical  courtship  of  Saccharissa.  See 
The  Story  of  Pkabus  and  Daphne  Applied,  Drury's  Waller,  p.  52. 

125  1.  Go,  lovely  rose.  This  famous  lyric,  which  it  seems  to  me  has 
been  somewhat  overrated,  appears  also  in  Wit's  Recreations,  followed 
by  two  other  poems  on  the  same  subject  —  one  of  them  Waller's, 
entitled  (in  his  works)  The  Bud ;  the  other  Herrick's,  entitled  (in  the 
Hesperides)  To  the  Rose,  Song.     The  first  stanza  runs  : 

Go,  happy  rose,  and  interwove 
With  other  flowers  bind  my  love. 
Tell  her  too,  she  must  not  be 
Longer  peevish,  longer  free, 
That  so  long  hath  fettered  me. 


NOTES.  265 

The  resemblance  is  only  superficial.  In  Mr.  Drury's  Waller  will  be 
found  a  number  of  other  parallels.  The  fact  that  these  poems  of 
Herrick  and  Waller  occur  towards  the  end  of  Wit 's  Recreations,  inter- 
mixed with  verse  of  Sir  Edward  Sherburne,  whose  volume  of  poetry, 
Sahnacis,  Lyrian,  and  Sylvia,  appeared  first  in  1651,  makes  it  likely 
that  all  were  collected  into  a  late  edition  of  Wifs  Recreations,  probably 
that  of  1654. 

125  7.  Graces  spied.  Mr.  Gosse  {From  Shakespeare  to  Pope,  p.  60) 
finds  these  syllables  "  drag  painfully  on  the  tongue  "  and  remembers 
"to  have  heard  the  greatest  living  authority  on  melodious  numbers 
[Tennyson.?]  suggest  that  Waller  must  have  written  graces  eyed^ 
He  adds:  "The  first  edition  of  1645,  however,  has,  by  an  obvious 
misprint,  gj-ace  spy'd."  The  reprint  of  Wifs  Recreations  reads  graces 
spyd ;  Fenton  reads  as  in  the  text.  If  another  conjecture  may  be 
made,  may  not  Waller  have  written  gi-ace  espied? 

126  7.     Thetis'  streams.     The  ocean. 

126.  Fie  on  Love.  I  have  preferred  the  longer  and  more  finished 
version  of  this  poem,  which  appears  in  Goffe's  Careless  Shepherdess, 
1656.  A  shorter  version  is  found  in  Shirley's  Poems,  1646.  I  have  no 
hesitation  in  assigning  the  lines  to  Shirley ;  they  are  much  in  his  man- 
ner.    Cf.  note  on  Love's  Hue  and  Cry,  above,  p.  6. 

126.  Henry  Vaughan,  the  Silurist,  so  called  by  his  contemporaries 
from  his  birth  among  the  people  of  South  Wales,  entered  Jesus  College, 
Oxford,  in  163S.  Both  Henry  and  his  brother  Thomas  were  zealous 
in  the  royal  cause,  although  the  poet  does  not  seem  to  have  borne 
arms.  Vaughan  had  a  glimpse  of  the  last  of  the  great  age  preceding. 
He  knew  Randolph  and  venerated  Jonson,  though  he  could  hardly 
have  met  him  personally.  This  contact  with  literary  London  inspired 
Vaughan 's  first  work,  Poems,  with  the  Tenth  Satire  of  Juvenal  Eng- 
lished. Olor  Iscamis,  a  second  book  of  secular  poems  and  translations, 
appeared  without  the  author's  sanction  in  1651. 

127  19.     Sense.     Senses,  perceptions.     Cf.  36  2,  37  30,  94  5. 

127  22.  Element.  Compose,  make  up  their  love.  A  favorite  word 
of  Donne's.  Cf.  his  Upon  Partiiig  from  his  Mistress,  Elizabethan  Lyrics, 
102  16. 

127.  The  Inconstant.  This  poem  was  prompted  by  Donne's  Indif 
fere7tt,  to  which  it  is  as  inferior  as  the  flippancy  of  persiflage  is  inferior 
to  imaginative  cynicism.  There  is  a  clever  mock  poem  on  the  same 
topic,  having  Donne's  title  and  Cowley's  treatment,  in  Alexander 
Brome's    Works,  Chalmers's  English  Poets,  VI,  p.  645. 

127  f,.     Devil.    Monosyllabic  here,  as  frequently.    Cf.  the  Scotch  deil. 


266  NO  TES. 

127  6.     Legion.     Trisyllabic.     Cf.  37  20,  75  4,  121  26. 

128  13.     Proper.     Handsome. 

128  16.  Black.  Cf.  Shakespeare's  Sonnet,  c.xlvii,  where  there  is  a 
play  on  the  meaning  of  black  as  the  color  of  evil.     Cf.  121  36,  134  13. 

128  30.     The  man  [that]  loves.     Cf.  1  2,  4  6,  9  2,  94  9. 

129.  Thomas  Stanley,  remembered  for  his  work  in  the  history  of 
philosophy,  was  also  a  poet  in  his  youth,  publishing  several  volumes, 
chiefly  of  translation,  between  1647  ^^i^  1651.  Stanley's  poetical  work 
seems  to  have  belonged  wholly  to  his  college  days.  Poems  and  Tratis- 
lations  is  the  first  of  Stanley's  volumes  of  poetry.  Much  of  this  volume 
is  reprinted  with  slight  variation  in  the  subsequent  ones. 

129.  The  Tomb.  I  prefer  the  shorter  and  apparently  revised 
version  of  this  poem  which  appeared  in  Poems  by   T.  S.,   1651. 

129  20.     As  thine.     As  thy  sacrifice. 

130.  TheRelapse.  Thispoemisentitledsimply6'<7«^intheed.of  1647. 

130  7.    Fall.  The  reading  of  the  ed.  of  165 1 ;  the  earlier  ed.  reads  «(7w^. 

131.  Richard  Lovelace  is  described  in  his  youth,  by  Wood,  as 
"  being  then  accounted  the  most  amiable  and  beautiful  person  that 
ever  eye  beheld,  ...  of  innate  modesty,  virtue,  and  courtly  deport- 
ment." Lovelace  was  educated  at  Oxford  and  distinguished  himself 
at  court  and  in  the  field.  He  was  twice  imprisoned  and  ultimately 
wasted  his  entire  fortune  "in  useless  attempts  to  serve  his  sovereign." 
He  died  in  poverty.  There  seems  no  particular  reason  for  supposing 
that  Lucasta  (lux  casta)  was  a  real  person,  Lucy  Sacheverell,  as  does 
Wood;  or  that  Lovelace,  after  his  loss  of  Lucasta,  married  Althea. 
Lovelace  has  been  variously  estimated  as  "  a  mere  reckless  improvisa- 
tore"  and  as  "the  most  fastidious  of  the  concettists."  Many  of  his 
minor  lyrics  fall  into  utter  unintelligibility  and  into  a  slovenliness  of 
style  not  to  be  accounted  for  by  mere  corruptness  of  text. 

131  1.  If  to  be  absent.  Cf.  the  idea  of  absence  not  a  separation 
but  an  etherealization  of  passion,  in  Donne's  Song  beginning:  "Soul's 
joy,  now  I  am  gone,"  Davison's  Poetical  Rhapsody^  Ode,  ed.  Bullen, 
I,  117;  Shirley's  To  his  Mistress  Confined,  ed.  Dyce,  VI,  409;  Carew, 
To  my  Mistress  in  Absence,  reprint  of  1824,  p.  27  ;  all  perhaps  ultimately 
referable  to  the  Symposiuin  of  Plato.  The  following  stanza  of  Cart- 
wright  well  sets  forth  the  contemporary  estimate  of  "  Platonic  love  "  : 

Tell  me  no  more  of  minds  embracing  minds. 

And  hearts  exchanged  for  hearts  ; 
That  spirits'  spirits  meet  as  winds  do  winds 

And  mix  their  subtlest  parts ; 
That  two  embodied  essences  may  kiss,  etc. 


NOTES.  267 

The  song  of  the  text  was  set  by  Lawes  and  appears  in  his  Airs  ami 
Dialogues,  1653-16  58. 

132  10.  Blow-god.  Aeolus  the  wind  god.  Explained  as  Neptune 
by  Mr.  Palgrave,  with  the  reading  blue-god.     The  original  reads  blew-god. 

132  18.  Greet  as  angels  greet.  Cf.  Donne's  The  Ecstacy  and  Air 
and  Angels,  and  Carew's   71?  my  Mistress  in  Absence. 

132  1.  Tell  me  not,  sweet.  "Suckling's  inconstancy  and  Love- 
lace's constancy,"  says  Mr.  Saintsbury,  "  may  or  may  not  be  equally 
poetical.  .  .  .  The  songs  remain,  and  remain  yet  unsurpassed,  as  the 
most  perfect  celebrations,  in  one  case  of  chivalrous  devotion,  in  the 
other  of  the  coxcomb  side  of  gallantry,  that  literature  contains  or  is 
likely  to  contain  "  (^Elizabethan  Literature,  p.  376). 

133  1.  Amarantha.  This  song  appears  in  Lawes'  Airs  and  Dia- 
logues, 1653,  and  likewise  in  Colgrave's  IVit's  Interpreter,  1655.  1 
follow  Lawes  in  presenting  but  two  stanzas. 

133  2.     Ah  braid  no  more.     Lawes  reads  Forbear  to  braid. 

133  4.     'Twas  last  night,  etc.     Cf.  Donne's  Woman's  Constancy: 

Now  thou  hast  loved  me  one  whole  day, 
Tomorrow,  when  thou  leav'st,  what  wilt  thou  say  ? 

and  Suckling's  Constancy,  above,  p.  iii. 

134  13.     Black.     Cf.  128  16. 

134  15.     Un-plowed-up.      Wit's  I}iterpreter,eA.  1662,  xe^iAsi^fibidden. 

134  17.     She.     Cf.  99  2  and  182  10. 

134.  To  Althea  from  Prison.  This  famous  song  is  set  to  music  by 
John  Wilson  in  his  Cheerful  Airs  or  Ballads,  1660. 

134  5.  Tangled  in  her  hair.  Cf.  Peele's  David  and  Bethsabe,  \.  i, 
ed.  Morley,  p.  85,  and  Lycidas,  6g. 

134  7.  Gods.  The  original  reading.  There  is  no  authority  for 
birds,  the  usual  reading. 

134  10.     Thames.     A  familiar  classicism.     Cf.  ^neid,  i.  472  : 

Priusquam 
Pabula  gustassent  Trojae  Xanthumque  bibissent. 

135  17.  Like  committed  linnets.  The  usual  reading,  Wheji  linnet- 
like cotifinM,  I,  is  a  refinement  'of  Bishop  Percy,  which  I  am  surprised 
to  find  Mr.  Saintsbury  accepting  without  comment  in  his  Seventeenth 
Centtcry  Lyrics.  Cf.  with  this  whole  poem  an  imitation,  sufiiciently 
base,  by  Thomas  Weaver,  in  his  Songs  attd  Poems  of  Love  attd  Drollery, 
Beloe's  Anecdotes,  VI,  88. 


268  NOTES. 

135.  Thomas  Forde,  the  dramatist,  not  to  be  confused  with  the 
musician  Thomas  Ford  or  the  more  famous  dramatist  John  Ford, 
is  described  as  a  "staunch  and  pious  royahst."  Forde  wrote  several 
moral  pamphlets  and  emulated  his  friend's,  James  Howell's,  Familiar 
Letters  in  his  Fcenestra  in  Pectore.  Love's  Labyrinth  is  a  dramatization 
of  Greene's  Menaphoii. 

136.  To  Perilla.  The  grave  beauty  of  this  poem  is  "beyond  praise. 
Professor  Hale  writes  thus  in  the  Introduction  to  his  ed.  of  Herrick, 
p.  xxxvi :  "  To  Herrick  the  two  greatest  things  of  life  were  Love  and 
Death,  —  and  his  mind  turned  constantly  to  the  thought  of  one  or  the 
other.  And  finding  in  his  own  religion  no  true  satisfaction  for  his 
whole  feeling,  it  would  really  seem  as  though  he  had  sometimes  fancied, 
half-seriously,  half  in  sport,  a  strange  cult  of  imaginary  deities  in  the 
ritual  of  whose  service,  had  it  ever  existed,  he  might  have  found  a  satis- 
faction which  was  given  him  nowhere  else." 

136  7.  First  cast  in  salt.  These  rites  are  imaginary  and  pictur- 
esque rather  than  founded  upon  actual  folklore.  See,  however.  Brand's 
Popular  Antiquities,  ed.  1813,  II,  203,  484. 

136  18.  Still  in  the  cool  and  silent  shades  of  sleep.  One  of  the 
most  beautiful  lines  in  our  literature. 

137.  His  Poetry  his  Pillar.  Cf.  with  this  The  Pillar  of  Fame,  the 
last  poem  of  the  Hesperides. 

138.  Jasper  Mayne,  Archdeacon  of  Chichester,  and  dramatist,  wrote 
much  occasional  verse,  some  of  which  is  to  be  found  in  Jonsomts 
Virbius  and  prefixed  to  the  second  folio  ed.  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher, 
1679.  Mayne  gave  up  poetry  in  middle  life.  The  lyric  of  the  text  is 
by  far  the  best  of  his  shorter  poems. 

140.  Crashaw's  volume  Carmen  Deo  Nostro  was  published  in  Paris, 
with  fine  plates,  said  to  be  of  the  poet's  own  designing.  See  An  Epi- 
gratn,  Turnbull's  Crashaw,  p.  145. 

140.  James  Graham,  Marquess  of  Montrose,  for  a  time  the  great 
military  stay  of  Charles  in  Scotland,  was  finally  defeated  and  gave  up 
his  life  in  the  royal  cause  a  year  after  the  execution  of  his  royal  master. 
"  The  great  Marquess's  verses,"  says  Mr.  Saintsbury,  commenting  upon 
the  poem  of  the  text,  "  are  amateurish  beyond  all  doubt,  and  the  present 
piece  is  defaced  by  the  political  flings  at  '  synods '  and  '  committees.' 
But  the  root  of  the  matter  is  in  it  "  (Seventeenth  Century  Lyrics,  p.  31 1). 
The  few  poems  which  Montrose  has  left  —  chief  among  them  the 
well-known  epitaph  on  Charles  I  —  will  be  found  in  the  Appendix  to 
Napier's  Montrose  and  the  Covenanters,  ed.  1838,  II,  566  et  set/.  See 
also  Hannah's  Courtly  Poets,  p.  203. 


NOTES.  269 

142.  Phineas  Fletcher,  the  author  of  77^-?  Purple  Island,  was  the 
son  of  Dr.  Giles  Fletcher,  who  wrote  the  sonnet  sequence  Licia.  John 
Fletcher,  the  dramatist,  was  Phineas'  first  cousin,  and  Giles  the  younger, 
author  of  Chrisfs  Victory  and  Triumph,  his  brother.  The  list  of  poet- 
ical Fletchers  is  completed  with  the  name  of  Dr.  Joseph  Fletcher,  who 
appears  not  to  have  been  related  to  John  and  Phineas.  The  earlier 
lyrics  of  Phineas,  some  of  great  merit,  fall  before  our  period.  See  Dr. 
Grosart's  ed.  of  Fletcher's  work. 

142  17.     Shades  fill  into  substance. 

143  30.  He,  he  thy  end.  It  is  a  pity  that  so  fine  a  poem  should  be 
blemished  by  an  obscurity,  apparently  easily  to  be  remedied. 

143.  Silex  Scintillans.  It  is  one  of  the  strange  vicissitudes  that 
seem  to  rule  even  in  literature,  that  Herbert,  in  his  own  age,  as  since, 
has  enjoyed  a  wider  popularity  than  either  of  his  greater  disciples, 
Crashaw  and  Vaughan.  The  titles  of  these  poems  are  Vaughan's 
own. 

143.  The  Retreat.  This  fine  poem  courts  comparison  with  Words- 
worth's great  Ode  on  Intimations  of  Immortality  from  Recollections  of 
Early  Childhood,  and  our  interest  becomes  only  the  greater  when 
M-e  learn  on  the  authority  of  Archbishop  Trench  that "  Wordsworth  had 
a  copy  of  Silex  Scintillans  and  that  it  bore  many  marks  of  earnest  use  " 
(Grosart's  Vaughan,  II,  Ixiv). 

143  1.  Happy  those  early  days.  Cf.  with  this  and  the  following 
lines  these  verses  from  Corruption,  ed.  Lyte,  p.  86  : 

Sure  it  was  so.     Man  in  those  early  days 

Was  not  all  stone  and  earth  ; 
He  shined  a  little,  and  by  those  weak  rays 

Had  some  glimpse  of  his  birth. 
He  saw  heaven  o'er  his  head,  and  knew  from  whence 

He  came,  condemned,  hither, 
And,  as  first  love  draws  strongest,  so  from  hence 

His  mind  sure  progressed  thither; 

an  even  closer  reminder  of  the  great  Ode  (Grosart). 

143  2.     Angel-infancy.     Infancy  pure  as  angels. 

144  26.  City  of  palm-trees.  Jericho,  often  so  called.  Ci.  II  Chron- 
icles,^XNUl,  15. 

144  17.     Ranges.     Wanderings. 

145  1.  Since  in  a  land,  etc.  Since  my  lot  is  fallen  in  a  land  not 
ever  barren,  etc. 

145.  The  World.  This  poem  is  followed  by  this  quotation  in  the 
original.     It  seems  fitting  that  more  than  the  reference  be  given  here- 


270  NOTES. 

"  For  all  that  is  in  the  world,  the  lust  of  the  flesh,  and  the  lust  of  the 
eyes,  and  the  pride  of  life,  is  not  of  the  Father,  but  is  of  the  world. 

"  And  the  world  passeth  away,  and  the  lust  thereof ;  but  he  that 
doeth  the  will  of  God  abideth  forever"  {I John,  II,  i6,  17). 

145  2.  Like  a  great  ring.  Cf.  with  this  sublime  image  Rossetti's 
conception  of  space,  The  Blessed  Damozel : 

Beneath  the  tides  of  day  and  night 
With  flame  and  darkness  ridge 
The  void ; 

and  further  on : 

She  saw 
Time  like  a  pulse  shake  fierce 
Through  all  the  world  (Grosart). 

146  30.  As  free.  As  freely  as  he  would  have  drunk  had  it  not 
rained  tears  and  blood. 

146  31.     Fearful.     Timorous. 

146  34.     Above.     In  heaven. 

147  38.     Downright.     Out  in  out. 

147  40.  While  others,  who  had  slipped  into  excess,  said  little  less 
than  the  epicure. 

147  43.  Think  them  brave.  The  present  here  used  to  express  the 
habit  of  thinking  such  trivial  things  beautiful  and  worth  having. 

147  44.  And  is  almost  antithetical  here ;  and  meanwhile  Truth  sate, 
etc. 

147  I.  I  walked  the  other  day.  Cf.  with  this  stanza  Herrick's  To 
Meadows,  above,  p.  79. 

148  14.  Bower.  An  inner  or  private  room,  hence  a  place  of  hiding 
or  protection. 

148  21.     Of  us  unseen.     Cf.  Shakespeare  Grammar,  §  170. 

148  23.  Strow.  Spread  apart  for  the  purpose  of  considering  ;  here 
equal  to  ponder. 

150.  Andrew  Marvell,  son  of  the  Master  of  Kingston-upon-HuU 
Grammar  School,  received  a  sound  education,  which  he  improved  by 
foreign  travel.  He  is  said  to  have  founded  his  lifelong  friendship  for 
Milton  while  at  Rome.  Nearly  all  the  lyrical  and  lighter  poems  of  Mar- 
vell belong,  according  to  general  opinion,  to  the  years  which  he  spent  in 
travel  and  as  tutor  to  the  daughter  of  the  famous  parliamentary  general. 
Lord  Fairfax.  It  was  early  in  1652  that  Marvell  was  recommended  by 
Milton  for  the  post  of  Assistant  Latin  Secretary ;  and  although  he  did 
not  obtain  the  appointment  until  later,  he  had  evidently  left  his  seclu- 


NOTES.  271 

sion  for  public  life.  Marvell's  after  career,  as  the  daring  and  incorrupt- 
ible satirist  of  Charles  II  and  his  dissolute  life,  does  not  concern  us 
here.  Asa  poet  and  as  a  man  Marvell  was  worthy  the  friendship  of 
Milton. 

150  22.     Curious  frame  [of  flowers].     Cf.  above,  v.  7  : 

The  fragrant  towers 
That  once  adorned  our  shepherdess's  head. 

150  24.     Set.     Arranged. 

151.  Bermudas.  These  islands  were  settled  in  the  first  quarter  of 
the  seventeenth  century  by  settlers  from  England,  who  fled,  like  the 
Pilgrim  Fathers,  to  escape  the  tyranny  which  led  to  the  Rebellion. 

151  23.     Apples.     Pineapples. 

152.  Clorinda  and  Damon.  Despite  superficial  matters  of  style 
there  is  an  unaffectedness  and  genuine  appreciation  of  nature  in  Marvell's 
little  pastoral  lyrics  that  takes  us  back  through  the  long  line  of  sophisti- 
cation to  the  pastorals  of  Greene,  Breton,  and  Lodge.  Nor  does  Mar- 
vell lose  in  this  mode  when  compared  with  Dryden. 

152  2.     Late.     Lately.     Grosart  places  a  comma  after  late. 

152  5.  Aim.  "  The  use  of  the  noun  in  sense  of  intent  is  common, 
and  both  are  due  to  the  (then)  common  practice  of  archery "  (Dr. 
Nicholson  in  ed.  Grosart,  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  several  of  the 
following  notes). 

152  8.  Vade.  Pass  away,  perish,  a  by-form  oi  fade.  Cf.  Shake- 
speare's Sonnets,  xiv.  10  ;  Richard  II,  i.  2.  20. 

153  14.  Concave  shell.  Cave,  hollow,  out  of  which  the  fountain 
issues.     Cf.  Milton's  "aery  shell,"  Song  from  Comics,  39  2. 

155  13.     Nest,  and  hence  make  their  home. 

156  24.     Lightfoot.     Evidently  a  dog's  name. 
156  28.     Antedate.     Anticipate. 

157.  The  Fair  Singer.  Dr.  Grosart  mentions  what  he  calls  "a 
grotesquely  quaint  anticipation"  of  this  poem  by  one  N.  Hookes,  1653. 
The  date  makes  it  more  probably  an  imitation.  Four  lines  will  suffice, 
and  they  are  worth  quoting  for  the  truly  original  picture  they  present : 

Hark  to  the  changes  of  the  trembhng  air  ! 
What  nightingales  do  play  in  consort  there  ! 
See  in  the  clouds  the  cherubs  listen  yon, 
Each  angel  with  an  otacousticon. 

It  may  be  glossed  that  an  otacousticon  is  an  ear  trumpet. 
159  29.     Quaint.     Nice ;  perhaps  here,  out  of  place. 


272  NOTES. 

159  40.  Slow-chapt.  Slowly  devouring.  "  Cf.  the  substantive 
chap,  the  jaw,  and  also  chop.  The  sense  is :  Let  us  devour  Time  in 
our  joys,  rather  than  by  your  coyness  languish  in  his  slow-devouring 
jaws  "  (Nicholson). 

159.  T.  C.  The  name  of  the  subject  of  this  charming  poem  has  not 
come  down  to  us.  Dr.  Nicholson  suggests,  in  a  pencil  note  in  Grosart's 
ed. :  "Evidently  some  one  born  in  a  commanding  position  ;  but  I  can  find 
no  Cromwell  nor  Claypole  to  correspond."  Mr.  Palgrave  remarks  of  the 
poem  :  "  Delicate  humor,  delightfully  united  to  thought  at  once  simple 
and  subtle.  It  is  full  of  conceit  and  paradox,  but  these  are  imaginative, 
not  as  with  most  of  our  Seventeenth  Century  poets,  intellectual  only  " 
(Golden  Treasury  of  Eiiglish  Lyrics,  p.  357). 

159.     Prospect.     View,  landscape. 

159  4.  Aspect.  Look,  perhaps  involving  the  astrological  meaning 
of  the  influence  or  effect  of  a  planet  upon  men's  fortunes. 

160  22.     But  more  despise.     Only  the  more  despise  those  that  yield. 

160  38.  Make  th'  example  yours.  "  Act  in  your  case  in  accord- 
ance with  the  example  which  you  set  (in  plucking  the  buds)  "  (Kit- 
tredge). 

160  39.     Ere  we  see  [them],  i.e.,  our  hopes. 

161  5.  Comets.  As  to  the  portentous  nature  of  comets  in  the 
vulgar  estimation  of  the  day,  see  /  Henry  IV,  i.  i.  10  ;  Julius  Cccsar,  ii. 
2.  30. 

161  7.  Higher.  The  reading  of  the  ed.  of  1681.  Later  editions 
read  other. 

161  9.     Officious.     Office-doing,  dutiful. 

161  1.     Survey.     Map,  plot. 

162  15.  Gaudy.  Here  in  both  the  modern  sense  of  bright-colored 
and  with  the  older  meaning,  joyful. 

162  19.     Ought.     Ought  to  have  done. 

162  26.  Companions  of  my  thoughts  more  green.  Cf.  Marvell's 
beautiful  poem   The  Garden  : 

Annihilating  all  that 's  made 

To  a  green  thought  in  a  green  shade. 

163.  Sir  Edward  Sherburne  held  for  many  years  a  place  in  the 
office  of  ordnance.  He  endured  many  vicissitudes  for  his  loyalty  and 
his  faith,  losing  at  one  time  all  his  property  and  with  it  a  valuable 
library  of  his  own  collecting.  Sherburne  was  best  known  in  his  day  as 
a  translator  and  was  intimate  with  Edward  Philips,  the  nephew  of  Mil- 
ton, who  dedicated  his   Theatrum   Foetarum  to  Sherburne  and  Sher- 


NOTES.  273 

burne's  kinsman,  Thomas  Stanley.  I  find  a  graceful  and  agreeable 
strain  in  Sherburne's  trifles,  which  seem  not  too  much  the  echo  of 
others.  Sherburne  has  not  been  reprinted  except  in  Chalmers,  vol.  VII. 
I  take  my  text  from  the  original  ed.  of  1651.  Many  of  Sherburne's 
poems  appear  in  the  last  two  editions  of   IVWs  Recreations. 

164  3.     Straight.     Immediately.     Cf.  9S  6. 

165  3.     Captived.     Captivated. 

165  5.     Admire.     Wonder  at. 

166.  Sonnet  XVI.  This  sonnet  was,  like  the  one  to  General  Fair- 
fax, not  included  in  the  edition  of  Milton's  poems,  1673,  t)ut  ap- 
peared first  as  indicated  in  the  title  in  the  text.  Philips  made  several 
changes  which  were  necessary  to  the  times.  The  Cambridge  MS.  has 
fortunately  enabled  subsequent  editors  to  give  the  true  version.  In 
this  MS.  the  poem  bears  the  date  May,  1652,  and  has  also  the  additional 
heading  "  On  the  proposals  of  certain  ministers  at  the  Committee  for 
Propagation  of  the  Gospel."  This  shows  that  the  sonnet  is  not  to  be 
regarded  as  Milton's  expression  of  general  admiration  for  Cromwell 
but  "as  a  special  appeal  invoked  by  certain  circumstances."  The  com- 
mittee of  the  Rump  Parliament,  alluded  to  above,  had  proposed  "  that 
the  preachers  should  receive  a  public  maintenance  "  (Pattison). 

166.  Cromwell.  Cf.  Milton's  eulogistic  review  of  the  character 
and  services  of  Cromwell,  in  the  Second  Defense,  Prose  Works,  ed.  Bohn, 
I,  282-291. 

166  1.  Our  chief  of  men.  "  In  respect  of  his  personal  qualities  and 
thorough  going  liberality  of  opinion,  and  not  merely  as  the  foremost  man 
in  the  Commonwealth  "  (Pattison). 

166  1.     A  cloud.     Cf.  ^neid,  x.  809. 

166  5.  On  the  neck.  Cf.  Genesis,  XLIX,  8  ;  Joshua,  X,  24,  etc., 
one  of  the  Biblical  phrases  formally  employed  in  the  common  speech 
of  the  day. 

166  7.  Darwen.  A  stream  near  Preston,  where  Cromwell  defeated 
the  Scotch,  August,  1648.  Dunbar,  in  which  the  Scotch  were  routed, 
was  in  September,  1650.  Worcester,  a  year  later,  witnessed  the  com- 
plete defeat  of  Charles,  w^ho  had  invaded  England  to  avenge  his  father's 
death. 

166  10.  Peace  hath  her  victories.  Pattison  refers  us  to  Ronsard, 
Sonnets  Divers,  v.  303,  and  Tennyson's  Ode  on  the  Death  of  the  Duke  of 
Wellington : 

For  one  so  true 
There  must  be  other,  nobler  work  to  do 
Than  when  he  fought  at  Waterloo. 


274  NOTES. 

166  11.  New  foes.  For  a  discussion  of  the  contemporary  cir- 
cumstances that  seemed  to  Milton  to  justify  these  last  lines,  I  must 
refer  the  student  to  Pattison's  or  Verity's  ed.  of  Miltort's  Sonnets. 
That  the  vigor  of  this  special  application  of  the  sonnet  should  have 
betrayed  the  poet,  here  alone,  into  a  final  couplet  is  but  natural.  In 
whatever  light  we  may  view  this  sonnet  its  conclusion  offers  an 
undoubted  instance  of  the  destruction  of  the  universahty  of  art  by  the 
infusion  of  a  specific  purpose. 

167.  Cupid  and  Death,  a  Masque,  was  acted  before  the  ambassa- 
dor of  Portugal,  March,  1653.  The  title  of  the  song  is  Mr.  Bullen's. 
This  poem  may  be  well  compared  with  its  companion  in  the  same  tone  : 
"  The  glories  of  our  blood  and  state."     See  above,  p.  89. 

167  1.  Avenge,  0  Lord.  This  sonnet  was  called  forth  by  the  suffer- 
ings of  the  Vaudois,  or  Waldenses,  against  whom  the  Duke  of  Savoy 
sent  an  armed  force,  upon  their  refusal  to  conform  to  the  Church,  April, 
1655.  The  excesses  of  this  expedition  filled  the  Protestant  world  with 
horror,  and  Cromwell  himself  declared  that  it  "  came  near  his  heart  as 
if  his  own  nearest  and  dearest  had  been  concerned."  On  the  subject, 
see  Pattison's  Life  of  Milton,  p.  126. 

167  1.  Whose  bones  lie  scattered.  Cf.  Temn-e  of  Kittgs,  Milton's 
Prose  Works,  II,  19. 

167  2.  On  the  Alpine  mountains  cold.  Cf. /"/v/^r/^/j-,  i.  2r.  9  ;  and 
Fairfax'  Tasso,  xiii.  60,  where  the  very  words  occur. 

167  3.  Who  kept  thy  truth.  Milton  speaks  later  of  the  Vaudois 
as  "those  ancientest  reformed  churches  of  the  Waldenses  —  if  they 
rather  continued  not  pure  since  the  apostles"  {The  Likeliest  Means  to 
Ketnove  Hirelings  out  of  the  Chnrch,  Prose  Works,  III,  16.     Verity.). 

167  4.  Worshipped  stocks  and  stones.  \n\vis,\.x2iQ.\.oxvTrne Religion, 
1659,  Milton  "lays  down  that  the  reason  for  excepting  Popery  from  gen- 
eral toleration  is  solely  because  it  is  idolatrous  "  {Prose  Works,  II,  514). 

168  7.  That  rolled  mother  and  infant.  This  incident  is  related 
as  a  fact  by  Sir  William  Moreland,  Cromwell's  agent  in  Piedmont,  in 
his  account  of  the  massacre  published  in  1658. 

168  10.  Their  martyred  blood  and  ashes  sow.  "  Plures  efficimur, 
quoties  metimur  a  vobis  ;  semen  est  sanguis  Christianorum,"  Tertullian, 
Apologia,  50  (Pattison). 

168  12.  The  triple  Tyrant.  The  Pope,  in  allusion  to  his  tiara  sur- 
rounded with  three  crowns. 

168  13.     Who.     Those  who. 

168  14.  Babylon  was  Rome  to  the  Puritans.  Cf.  the  Babylon  of 
the  Apocalypse. 


NOTES.  21 S 

168.  On  his  Blindness.  This  sonnet  is  usually,  but  conjecturally, 
assigned  to  the  year  1655.  Milton's  eyesight  had  been  long  failing, 
and  he  became  totally  blind  about  March,  1652.  His  steady  per- 
sistence in  writing  his  Defensio  pro  populo  Anglicano  contra  Salmasium 
hastened  this  calamity.  Not  the  least  merit  of  this  noble  sonnet  is  its 
freedom  from  the  note  oi  complaint  and  repining.  Cf.  with  this  a  pas- 
sage from  a  letter  of  Milton's  to  Philaras,  quoted  by  Pattison  [Sonnets, 
p.  205),  and  also  Paradise  Lost,  vii.  27,  and  Samson  Agonistes,  80. 

168  3.     One  talent.     Cf.  Matthew,  XXV,  14. 

168  8.     Fondly.     Foolishly. 

168  12.  Thousands  of  angels.  Cf.  Christian  Doctrine,  i.  9,  and 
Paradise  Lost,  iv.  677. 

168  13.     Post.     a. /ulius  Ceesar,  m.  1 .  2S7 . 

168  14.     Stand.     Cf.  Daniel,  VII,  10,  and  Licke,  I,  19. 

169  1.  They  are  all  gone  into  the  world  of  light.  These  words 
recall  Lamb's  beautiful  refrain,  "  All,  all  are  gone,  the  old  familiar 
faces."  The  two  poems  are,  however,  very  different.  The  title  is  not 
in  the  original ;  Dr.  Grosart's  title  is  Beyond  the  Veil. 

169  7.  Those  faint  beams  .  .  .  after  the  sun's  remove.  Cf.  To 
Amoret,  above,  p.  126,  where  there  is  a  more  elaborate  picture  of  this 
moment  after  sundown. 

169  10.     Trample.     Tread  close  upon,  follow  closely. 

169  21.  He  that  hath  found.  Had  Vaughan  always  written  as  he 
wrote  in  this  and  the  following  exquisite  stanza,  he  need  not  have 
yielded  to  any  of  his  contemporaries. 

169  25.  And  yet,  as  angels  in  some  brighter  dreams.  Cf.  Words- 
worth's Ode  on  the  Intimations  of  Immortality : 

There  was  a  time  when  meadow,  grove,  and  stream, 
The  earth,  and  every  common  sight, 
To  me  did  seem 
Apparelled  in  celestial  light. 
The  glory  and  the  freshness  of  a  dream. 

170  35.     Resume.     Take  back  again. 

170  38.  Perspective.  Accent  on  the  first  syllable,  as  in  AlTs  Well, 
V.  3.  48,  and  commonly. 

170.  The  Throne.  Cf.  Revelation,  XX,  11,  Vaughan's  own 
reference. 

171.  Charles  Cotton,  the  friend  of  Izaak  Walton,  is  described  as  a 
very  accomplished  man,  travelled,  and  devoted  to  literary  pursuits, 
angling,  and  horticulture.     Cotton  appears  to  have  been  something  of 


276  NOTES. 

a  bon  vivant,  the  marriage  of  two  fortunes  and  his  own  large  patrimony 
not  sufficing  to  keep  him  out  of  debt.  He  is  best  known  by  his  treatise 
on  fly-fishing,  pubUshed  in  1676  as  a  Second  Part  to  Walton's  Complete 
Angler.  Coleridge  said  of  Cotton's  poetry :  "  There  are  not  a  few 
poems  in  that  volume,  replete  with  every  excellence  of  thought,  image 
and  passion,  which  we  expect  or  desire  in  the  poetry  of  the  milder 
muse  ;  and  yet  so  worded,  that  the  reader  sees  no  one  reason  either  in 
the  selection  or  the  order  of  the  words,  why  he  might  not  have  said  the 
very  same  in  an  appropriate  conversation,  and  can  not  conceive  how 
indeed  he  could  have  expressed  such  thoughts  otherwise,  without  loss 
or  injury  to  the  meaning"  (^Biographia  Literaria,  American  ed.,  1S84, 
p.  436). 

171.  Poems  on  Several  Occasions,  1689.  The  text  is  from  this 
posthumous  volume,  which  was  very  C3.relessly  collected,  some  poems 
appearing  twice.  Chalmers  reprinted  much  of  this  volume  in  his  Eng- 
lish Poets,  18 10.  Cotton  has  escaped  even  the  editorial  assiduity  of 
Dr.  Grosart,  and  remains,  except  for  his  continuation  of  Walton, 
little  known. 

171.  Ode.  Charles  I  surrendered  in  May,  1646,  when  Cotton  was 
about  sixteen  years  old.  This  song  may  have  been  written  before  the 
execution  of  the  king  three  years  later ;  it  is  more  likely,  however,  that 
the  final  line  refers  to  Charles  II,  then  in  exile. 

171  1.  The  day  is  set.  The  day,  which  adorned  the  earth,  is  set 
(i.e.,  the  sun  has  set,  but  also  is  set,  seated,  like  a  man,  at  table)  to 
drink,  etc. 

171  8.     For.     Despite. 

172  1.  Fair  Isabel.  Cotton  married  Isabella,  daughter  of  Sir 
Thomas  Hutchinson  of  Owthorp,  in  1656.  I  place  this  poem  shortly 
prior  to  that  event. 

173.  Miscellanies.  Many  of  the  poems  of  this  division  of  Cow- 
ley's own  folio  of  1656  were  written  far  earlier,  especially  the  poems 
previously  published  under  the  titles  Sylva  and  Poetical  Blossoms. 
Neither  of  the  poems  which  follow  appeared,  as  far  as  I  can  ascertain, 
before  1656. 

176  74.  Matchavil.  A  shortening  and  corruption  of  Machiavel,  an 
anglicized  form  of  Macchiavelli,  for  generations  regarded  as  the  type  of 
the  arch-schemer. 

176  78.     Holinshed  or  Stow.     The  well-known  English  chroniclers. 

176.  Anacr^ontique.  This  is  a  sufficiently  original  version  of  the 
six  lines,  EZs  t6  hiiv  irlveiv,  ascribed  to  Anacreon,  to  deserve  a  place 
here.     Cf.  Cotton's  less  successful  paraphrase,  Poe/ns,  ed.  1689,  p.  217. 


NOTES.  211 

111.  Henry  King,  bishop  of  Chichester,  was  the  friend  of  Sandys, 
James  Howell,  Izaak  Walton,  and  Jonson.  His  elegy  on  the  last  is 
one  of  the  best  pieces  of  the  memorial  volume  Jonsonus  Virbius. 
There  is  nothing  to  determine  the  probable  date  of  the  writing  of  the 
little  poem  of  the  text,  as  King  seems  to  have  amused  himself  with 
poetry  throughout  his  life.  His  elegies  on  Gustavus  Adolphus  and  on 
Donne  appeared  as  early  as  1633.  King's  poetry,  while  often  excel- 
lent, is  very  unequal.  It  has  been  much  confused  with  the  writings  of 
Jonson,  Beaumont,  Corbet,  and  others. 

178.     Henry  Harrington.     Of  this  Harrington  I  can  find  no  word. 

178.  On  his  Deceased  Wife.  This  was  Milton's  second  wife,  Cata- 
rine  Woodcock,  whom  he  married  Nov.  12,  1656.  She  died  in  child- 
birth, February,  1658,  soon  followed  by  her  child.  "  Milton's  private 
life,  for  eighteen  years  now,"  says  Professor  Masson,  "  had  certainly 
not  been  a  happy  one  ;  but  this  death  of  his  second  wife  seems  to  have 
been  remembered  by  him  ever  afterwards  with  deep  and  peculiar  sor- 
row. She  had  been  to  him  during  the  short  fifteen  monfTis  of  this 
union,  all  that  he  had  thought  saint-like  and  womanly,  very  sympathetic 
with  himself,  and  maintaining  such  peace  and  order  in  his  household  as 
had  not  been  there  till  she  entered  it"  (Life  of  Milton,  V,  382).  Hallam 
refers  by  way  of  parallel  to  a  sonnet  by  Bernadino  Rota,  beginning  :  "  In 
lieto  e  pien  di  riverenza  aspetto  "  (Pattison). 

178  2.  Alcestis  died  for  her  husband,  but  was  brought  back  to  the 
world  by  Hercules,  foveas  great  son.  Cf.  Alcestis,  1 136.  Euripides  was 
a  favorite  author  of  Milton's. 

178  5,  6.  In  allusion  to  the  Mosaic  ceremonies  for  purification  after 
childbirth,  Leviticus,  XII. 

178  8.  Full  sight  of  her.  Milton  was  already  blind  at  the  time  of 
his  second  marriage. 

178  10.  Her  face  was  veiled,  as  was  the  face  of  Alcestis  at  first, 
when  Hercules  brought  her  back  to  her  husband's  presence  (Verity). 

178  14.     Night.      His  blindness.     Cf.  Paradise  Lost,  viii.  478. 

179.  Thomas  Flatman,  the  miniature  painter,  was  a  disciple  of 
Cowley.  This  poem.  For  Thoughts,  is  the  strongest  piece  of  his  work. 
It  is  reprinted  by  Mr.  Bullen  in  his  Afusa  Proterva.  A  fortunate 
chance  which  has  brought  into  the  possession  of  the  library  of  the 
University  of  Pennsylvania  a  manuscript  of  several  poems  and  songs  of 
Flatman  enables  me  to  give  the  precise  date.  The  version  of  this  MS. 
differs  in  some  particulars  from  Mr.  Bullen's  text,  in  almost  every 
instance  for  the  better.  I  have  followed  the  MS.,  which  is  headed 
"  Miscellanies  by  Tho  :  Flatman,"  and  collated  it  with  the  third  ed.  of 


278  NOTES. 

1682,  which  presents  a  generally  inferior  text,  though  it  may  have  had 
the  revision  of  the  author. 

179  11.     The  stupefying  wine.     The  hemlock  of  the  ancients. 

179  1.3.     Trembling.     BuUen  X&2.A?,  shivering,  with  the  ed.  of  1682. 

179  17.     Magic.     Ed.  of  1682  reads  ejichantments. 

179  19.     Awful.     Ed.  of  1682  omits  this  word. 

179  21.  Brother  and  uncle  to  the  stars  and  sun.  Zeus,  probably. 
The  cosmogony  of  Flatman  seems  somewhat  mixed.  The  phrase, 
however,  is  a  fine  one. 

179  22.     Toys.     Bullen  reads y^j'j-,  an  evident  misprint. 

179  27.  My  thoughts  can  eas'ly  lay.  Bullen  and  ed.  of  1682  read 
My  thoughts,  7ny  thoughts  can  lay. 

180  30.  Th'  eleven  orbs.  According  to  a  theory  of  the  old  astron- 
omy there  were  nine  crystalline  spheres  or  heavens,  each  revolving 
within  the  other  and  ranging  from  the  sphere  of  the  moon,  which  was 
nearest  the  earth,  to  the  primum  mobile,  the  most  remote.  Some 
authors  made  out  twelve  heavens,  adding  to  this  last  and  the  spheres 
of  the  seven  planets  the  nomim  ccebim  and  the  decimum  coelum,  imme- 
diately within  the  primum  mobile,  and  making  the  ccelum  etftpyreeum 
the  outermost  sphere  of  all.  Through  all  the  eleven  orbs  would  then 
mean  to  the  furthest  limit  of  the  heavens,  as  thought  would  pass 
through  eleven  orbs  to  reach  the  twelfth. 

180  30.  Shove  a  way.  Campbell,  who  includes  this  poem  in  his 
British  Poets,  reads  away,  with  the  ed.  of  16S2. 

180  31.     My  thoughts.     Ed.  of  1682  reads  these,  too. 

ISO  39.  Huge.  Ed.  of  1682  reads  rare;  glisters,  in  the  next  line, 
glimmers. 

180  42.  There  can  I  dwell  [gaze]  and  'live  [glut]  mine  eyes.  The 
words  in  brackets  indicate  the  readings  of  ed.  of  1682. 

180  51.  Non-addresses.  Apparently  here  equal  to  prohibition  of 
intercourse. 

181.  A  Wish.  This  is  the  title  given  this  poem  in  the  MS.  men- 
tioned above.  It  is  there  dated  Sept.  10,  1659.  The  previous  poem 
bears  date  May  1 3  in  the  same  year.  A  Wish  is  described  as  "  set  by 
Captain  S.  Taylor." 

181  2.     Heads.     Ed.  of  1682  reads  head. 

181  16.  Whence  the  sun  darts.  Ed.  of  1682  reads  whence  Phcebus 
da}-ts. 

181  19.     Ever.     Ed.  of  1682  reads  never. 

182.  Alexander  Brome  is  described  as  "an  attorney  of  London  in 
the  Civil  Wars."     He  was  the  author  of  some  plays  published  before 


NOTES.  279 

the  Restoration,  and  appears,  from  verses  prefixed  to  his  Poems,  to 
have  been  more  or  less  intimate  with  Charles  Cotton  and  Izaak  Wal- 
ton. He  begins  a  witty  preface  To  the  Reader  by  attributing  his 
collection  of  his  poems  to  laziness  and  a  long  vacation,  "  the  one 
inclining  me  to  do  nothing  else,  and  the  other  affording  me  nothing 
else  to  do."  I  take  my  text  from  the  third  edition,  1668.  Brome's 
erotic  verse  is  neither  musical  nor  very  original.  His  most  character- 
istic productions  are  his  Cavalier  Songs,  which  have  abundance  of 
rough  vigor,  if  little  poetry,  in  them. 

182  10.     A  she.     Cf.  99  2. 

182  11.  The  only  argument.  Cf.  Wither's  immortal  "  Shall  I, 
wasting  in  despair  "  {Elizabethan  Lyrics,  p.  16S). 

182  18.  Stain,  i.e.,  by  comparison.  Cf.  Lyly's  Song  of  Daphne  in 
Midas :  "  My  Daphne's  beauty  stains  all  faces." 

182  19.  Shadows.  This  is  the  reading  of  the  ed.  of  166S  and 
of  Chalmers.  Mr.  Saintsbury,  Seventeenth  Century  Lyrics,  reads 
shadow. 

183.  Sir  William  Davenant  was  godson  of  Shakespeare,  poet 
laureate  preceding  Dryden,  dramatist,  and  author  of  the  epic  Gondibert. 
His  work  is  not  without  merit,  but  rarely  rises  above  mediocrity.  I 
cannot  find  anything  beyond  these  two  little  poems  in  Davenant's 
bulky  folio  to  serve  my  purpose. 

184  1.     The  lark   now   leaves   his   wat'ry   nest.     Cf.  Venus  and 

Adonis,  853 : 

Lo,  here  the  gentle  lark,  weary  of  rest. 
From  his  moist  cabinet  mounts  up  on  high. 

184  12.  Draw  your  curtains,  and  begin  the  dawn.  A  common 
sentiment  of  the  poets.  Cf.  Crashaw,  114  21,  Carew,  70  16,  and 
Herrick,  Up07i  Electra  : 

When  out  of  bed  my  love  doth  spring 

'T  is  but  as  day  a-kindling  ; 

But  when  she 's  up  and  fully  drest 

'T  is  then  broad  day  throughout  the  east. 

184.  Katherine  Philips,  whose  maiden  name  was  Fowler,  gathered 
about  her  at  her  home  in  Cardigan,  and  on  her  visits  to  London,  "  a 
society  of  friendship,  the  members  of  which  were  distinguished  [after 
the  manner  of  the  romances  of  the  day]  by  various  fanciful  names." 
Thus  her  husband  was  known  as  Antenor,  she  herself  as  Orinda,  to 
which  her  admirers  affixed  the  adjective  "  matchless."  Her  earliest  work 
appeared  in  1651,  prefixed  to  the  volumes  of  poems  of  Henry  Vaughan 


280  NOTES. 

and  William  Cartwright.  Most  of  her  verses  were  published  after 
her  death  ;  they  are  largely  devoted  to  friendship.  We  may  agree  with 
Mr.  G.  Thorn  Drury,  the  writer  of  the  article  on  this  excellent  lady  in 
the  Dictionary  of  National  Biography,  that  "  Orinda's  fame  as  a  poet 
[was]  always  considerably  in  excess  of  her  merits." 

1S5.  Sir  William  Killegrew  was  elder  brother  of  the  dramatists 
Henry  and  Thomas.  He  wrote  several  plays,  all  of  them  acted  after 
the  Restoration.     His  later  work  was  chiefly  devotional. 

186.  Sir  George  Etheridge  was  the  author  of  three  comedies  and 
much  reputed  for  his  wit.  He  was  employed  abroad  as  envoy  to 
Hamburg  and  minister  to  Ratisbon,  in  which  latter  place  he  died. 

186.  Song.  This  song  was  lengthened  into  a  broadside  ballad. 
Cf.  Roxburghe  Ballads,  XVI,   133-135  (Bullen). 

186  10.     His  is  Mr.  BuUen's  reading  for  this  of  the  original. 

187.  The  Indian  Queen  was  published  as  "  written  by  the  Honorable 
Sir  Robert  Howard,"  the  brother-in-law  of  Dryden.  Dryden  not  only 
touched  up  the  whole  play,  but  wrote  large  portions  of  it.  The  songs 
are  in  his  manner. 

187  7.     Zempoalla  is  the  usurping  Indian  queen. 

187  8.     On  her  dismal  vision  wait.     After  these  words  the  queen 
impatiently  interrupts  the  incantation,  which  then  continues. 
187  9.     Toad  .  .  .  adders'.     Cf.  Middleton's  The  Witch,  v.  2: 

The  juice  of  toad,  the  oil  of  adder. 
Those  will  make  the  younker  madder. 

187  14.  Clifts.  Dryden  uses  this  form  of  the  word  "  cliff "  else- 
where.  Translation  of  Persitts,  vi.  17. 

187  24.     Use.     Are  accustomed  to. 

188.  "The  Indian  Emperor,"  says  Scott,  "is  the  first  of  Dryden's 
plays  which  exhibited,  in  a  marked  degree,  the  peculiarity  of  his  style, 
and  drew  upon  him  the  attention  of  the  world." 

188  5.     Does.     Later  ed.  reads  would. 

188  13.     Fall,  fall,  fall.     Cf.  Jonson's  lyric  in  Cynthia's  Revels,  i.  2  : 

Like  melting  snow  upon  some  craggy  hill, 
Drop,  drop,  drop,  drop. 

188.  Sir  Charles  Sedley  led  the  usual  dissipated  life  of  his  age. 
He  is  thus  distinguished  as  a  wit  from  his  two  great  rivals  by  Bishop 
Burnet :  "  Sedley  had  a  more  sudden  and  copious  wit,  which  furnished 
a  perpetual  run  of  discourse  ;  but  he  was  not  so  correct  as  Lord  Dorset, 


NOTES.  281 

nor  so  sparkling  as  Lord  Rochester "  {^History  of  His  Own  Time,  I, 
372).  Sedley  appears  to  have  become  somewhat  less  frivolous  in  later 
life,  and  took  sides  against  the  Stuarts  at  the  Revolution.  I  read  from 
the  collected  ed.  of  Sedley's  Works,  1778. 

188.  The  Mulberry  Garden  is  described  by  Ward  as  "  partly  founded 
on  Moliere's  VEcole  des  Maris."  The  title  of  this  lyric  is  given  in  the 
play  a  few  lines  above  the  poem.  Cf.  a  very  different  treatment  of  a 
similar  theme  by  Marvell,  The  Picture  of  Little  T.  C.  in  a  P7-ospect  of 
Flowers,  p.  159,  above. 

190  7.     I  only  care.     I  care  alone.     Cf.  199  6. 

191  22.  Joy.  Bliss  in  some  editions,  with  a  change  of  the  fourth 
line  of  the  stanza  to  "  No  less  inhuman  is."  This  version  concludes 
with  an  additional  stanza,  which  is  no  gain  to  the  poem. 

191  6.  Knotted.  Knotting  was  a  kind  of  fancy  work  similar  to 
lace  making.  See  Ashton's  Social  Life  in  the  Reign  of  Queen  Atine, 
I,  17. 

192  1.  Phyllis,  men  say.  There  is  an  amplification  of  the  last 
stanza  of  this  song  in  most  editions  of  Sedley.  This  destroys  the 
unity  of  the  poem,  as  the  addition  is  distinctly  inferior. 

193.  Tyrannic  Love  is  one  of  the  most  characteristic  of  the  heroic 
plays  of  Dryden  ;  An  Evening  ^s  Love,  largely  a  translation  from  various 
sources,  is  a  very  vivacious  comedy. 

194.  You  Charmed  Me.  The  simplicity,  directness,  and  choice 
diction  of  this  little  song  show  the  master  hand  of  a  strong  poet. 

194.  John  Wilmot,  Earl  of  Rochester,  is  thus  tersely  described  by 
Walpole  :  "  A  man  whom  the  Muses  were  fond  to  inspire  and  ashamed 
to  avow ;  and  [who]  practised,  without  the  least  reserve,  that  secret 
which  can  make  verses  more  read  for  their  defects  than  their  mer- 
its" {Noble  Authors,  II,  43).  Rochester  died  at  thirty-two  a  ruined 
debauchee.     The  text  is  from  the  ed.  of  1680. 

195  8.  That  tears,  etc.  In  later  editions :  "  That  tears  my  fixed 
heart  from  love." 

195  11.  Where  love,  etc.  A  later  reading  is :  "  Where  love,  and 
peace,  and  honor  flow." 

196.  Upon  Drinking  in  a  Bowl.  A  spirited  paraphrase  of  the  song 
ascribed  to  Anacreon,  Et's  -woT-qpLov  dpyvpouv.  Rochester  has  delight- 
fully enlarged  upon  the  Greek :  "  Deepen  the  cup  as  much  as  you 
can  {6a-oi'  SivT]  jBddvvov),"  to  suggest  "  vast  toasts  on  the  delicious  lake, 
like  ships." 

196  11.  Maestrick  was  captured  by  the  French  under  Louis  XIV 
and  Vauban  in  July,   1673.     The  English  were  his  allies  in  this  war. 


2S2  NOTES. 

Evelyn,  in  his  Diary  under  date  of  August  21,  1674,  describes  an 
out-of-door  tableau  at  Winsor,  in  the  meadow,  showing  the  Siege  of 
Maestricht.     I  do  not  identify  the  allusion  to  Yarmouth  leaguer. 

196  15.  Sir  Sidrophel  is  the  name  of  the  astrologer  in  the  Second 
Part  of  Hudibras,  Canto  iii,  the  argument  to  which  begins  thus : 

The  Knight,  with  various  doubts  possest, 
To  win  the  Lady  goes  in  quest 
Of  Sidrophel  the  Rosycrucian, 
To  know  the  Dest'nies'  resolution. 

William  Lilly,  a  famous  almanac  maker  of  the  day,  was  Butler's  original. 
Ten  years  later  the  satirist  applied  the  name  to  a  member  of  the  Royal 
Society  who  was  pleased  to  doubt  Butler's  authorship  of  Hudibras. 

197  8.  Will  still  love  on.  This  phrase  and  the  corresponding 
phrase  of  the  next  stanza  is  repeated  in  the  original,  probably  owing  to 
the  demands  of  some  popular  melody  to  which  it  was  set. 

197  13.  His  smart.  His  is  a  later  reading;  the  ed.  of  16S0  reads 
this. 

19S  2.     Things,  may  melt.     Things  that  may  melt.     Cf.  1  2. 

199  6.     Are  only  free.     Alone  are  free.     Cf.  190  7. 

200.  Aphara,  Aphra  or  Afra  Behn,  whose  maiden  name  was  John- 
son, was  the  first  woman  in  England  to  make  authorship  a  profession. 
She  wrote  a  great  deal  and  succeeded  as  a  dramatist,  a  writer  of  stories 
and  other  prose.  Despite  the  fact  that  she  "  trod  the  boards  loosely," 
in  the  manner  of  her  age,  some  of  the  works  of  Mrs.  Behn  are  not 
without  merit.  This  is  especially  true  of  her  story  Oroonoko,  a  book 
which  exhibits  many  sentiments  which  forebode  Rousseau,  and  courts, 
from  its  subject,  a  comparison  with  Uncle  Toi?t's  Cabin. 

200.  Abdelazer,  a  tragedy,  is  a  rifacimento  of  Marlowe's  Lust's 
Dominion.  The  text  is  from  Plays  Written  by  the  Late  Ingenioics  Mrs. 
Behn,  1724.  This  poem  appears  also  in  The  Loyal  Garland,  ed.  1686, 
and  elsewhere. 

201.  Troilus  and  Cressida  is  one  of  Dryden's  several  quarryings  in 
the  works  of  Shakespeare  and  Milton.  The  anapaestic  movement  of 
this  little  lyric  is  worthy  of  note.  Cf.  Rochester's  Song  {Poems,  ed. 
1680,  p.  43)  ■ 

To  this  moment  a  rebel,  I  throw  down  my  arms ; 

and,  far  earlier,  Uavenant's  irregular   Wake  all  the  dead,  Saintsbury's 
Seventeenth   Century  Lyrics,  p.  113. 

201.     Horace  Walpole  says  of  Dorset :  "  He  was  the  finest  gentle- 


NOTES.  283 

man  of  the  voluptuous  court  of  Charles  II,  and  in  the  gloomy  one  of 
King  William.  He  had  as  much  wit  as  his  first  master,  or  his  con- 
temporaries, Buckingham  and  Rochester,  without  the  royal  want  of 
feeling,  the  duke's  want  of  principles,  or  the  earl's  want  of  thought  " 
{Noble  Authors,  II,  96).  The  lyrics  of  Dorset  are  found  only  in  collections 
and  miscellanies.  While  it  is  impossible  accurately  to  determine  the 
time  of  the  writing  of  his  poems,  the  range  of  his  activity  as  an  author 
certainly  extends  from  soon  after  the  Restoration  to  the  death  of 
Charles.  There  is  a  piece  addressed  to  Dorinda,  who  has  been  identi- 
fied with  Catherine  Sedley,  Countess  of  Dorchester,  bearing  date  1680. 
His  most  famous  poem,  the  Soiig,  Written  at  Sea,  bears  date  1665. 

202  7.     Blackguard  boy.     Linkboy. 

202  1.  Phyllis,  for  shame.  This  song,  so  far  as  I  can  ascertain, 
did  not  appear  in  print  until  1700,  in  the  collection  Works  of  Celebrated 
Authors  of  whose  Writings  there  are  but  Small  /Remains. 

203.  The  Spanish  Friar  was  what  was  known  as  a  Protestant  play. 
This  was  not  the  only  instance  in  which  Dryden  diverted  his  genius 
into  the  paths  of  applied  drama. 

204.  The  Duke  of  Guise,  a  play  of  palpable  political  import,  was 
the  joint  work  of  Dryden  and  Nathaniel  Lee.  This  song  is  certainly 
Dryden's.  In  Scott's  edition,  as  revised  by  Saintsbury,  the  original 
music  is  given. 

204  9.  Cordial.  Anything  which  invigorates;  used  elsewhere  by 
Dryden  in  this  general  sense.  Cf.  "  Charms  to  my  sight  and  cordials 
to  my  mind." 

205.  John  Norris,  rector  of  Bemerton,  was  a  student  of  Platonism, 
a  disciple  of  Malebranche,  and  a  voluminous  author.  His  poems  have 
been  collected  and  published  by  Dr.  Grosart  in  his  Fuller  Worthies^ 
Miscellanies.  The  Hymn  to  Darkness  is  Norris'  best  poem,  and  that 
is  improved  by  Mr.  Palgrave's  judicious  curtailing,  a  process  which  the 
plan  of  this  book  will  not  permit.  See  the  Golden  Treasury  of  English 
Lyrics,  p.  128,  where  the  poem  is  described  as  "a  lyric  of  a  strange, 
fanciful,  yet  solemn  beauty ;  Cowley's  style  intensified  by  the  mysticism 
of  Henry  More." 

205  9.     This  monument.     The  world,  explains  Mr.  Palgrave. 

207.  The  Morning  Quatrains.  This  poem,  with  its  companions. 
Noon  Quatrains,  Evenittg,  and  Night,  has  a  charming  naturalness  in 
description  not  common  in  the  poetry  of  Cotton's  contemporaries. 

208  21.     Xanthus  and  MVaon,  the  horses  of  the  sun. 

208  36.  Humanity  in  the  Latin  sense  of  kindliness  towards  others, 
civility. 


284  NOTES. 

208  44.  Imprime.  Here  evidently  an  early  song.  Prime  was  the 
first  canonical  hour  of  prayer.     I  have  not  found  this  word  elsewhere. 

209  49.     Repairs.     The  original  reads  prepares. 

209  55.  Purlieus.  Here  in  the  more  original  sense  of  the  borders 
of  the  wood. 

209  65.     Slick.     Sleek. 

210.  Rondeau.  Cotton  is  interesting  for  his  practice  of  the  ron- 
deau, a  French  form  not  imitated  in  English  literature,  at  least  by  a 
poet  of  respectable  rank,  from  Wyatt  to  Cotton  or  (with  the  solitary 
exception  of  the  examples  of  that  group  of  political  satirists  who  are 
responsible  for  the  Rolliad,  1784,  and  its  successors)  from  Cotton  to 
the  general  revival  of  interest  in  French  forms  a  few  years  since. 
Cotton  translated  many  books  from  the  French,  with  the  literature  of 
which  country  he  was  much  at  home.  It  is  not  easy  to  select  from 
Cotton,  because  of  what  Mr.  Saintsbury  has  justly  called  "  his  curious 
blend  of  thoroughly  poetical  conception  with  imperfect  poetical  execu- 
tion." Moreover,  not  a  few  of  the  poems  of  Cotton,  which  rank  highest 
poetically,  are  unquotable  to-day.  I  could  scarcely  venture  to  include 
all  the  poems  for  which  Mr.  Saintsbury  finds  a  place  in  his  Sevettteeiith 
Century  Lyrics,  and  have  thus  been  compelled  to  omit  one  of  the 
most  "quaint  and  pleasing." 

211  16.  Rove.  To  shoot  at  rovers  was  to  shoot  at  an  irregular  or 
uncertain  mark.  "  Love  is  conceived  as  shooting  at  random,  careless 
whom  he  hits." 

214  14.     That.     That  which. 

214.  The  Lover's  Watch,  or  the  Art  of  fnaking  Love,  being  Rules 
for  Courtship  for  Every  Hour  171  the  Day  and  Night,  so  runs  the  com- 
prehensive title  of  this  tract  of  mingled  verse  and  prose.  The  text  of 
this  little  song  is  from  the  ed.  of  1699. 

215.  0  Love  that  Stronger  art  than  Wine.  Mr.  Bullen  raises  the 
question,  "  Did  Mrs.  Behn  write  these  fine  verses  ? "  and  he  cites  the 
fact  that  the  poem  was  printed  in  the  same  year,  1687,  in  Henry  Play- 
ford's  fourth  book  of  The  Theater  of  Music,  with  these  words  at  the 
end  of  the  song :  "  These  words  by  Mr.  Ousley "  {Musa  Proterva, 
p.   II). 

215  11.  Learns  a  clown.  This  verb  was  commonly  used  transi- 
tively in  the  seventeenth  century  and  earlier.     Cf.  Tempest,  i.  2.  365. 

215  13.     Free.     Liberal. 
215  19.     Finest.     Refinest. 

216.  Of  the  Last  Verses.  There  is  a  transcript  of  these  verses  by  a 
son  of  the  poet,  headed  :  "  The  last  verses  my  dear  father  made  "  (Drury). 


NOTES.  285 

216.  Saint  Cecilia.  The  patron  saint  of  musicians,  martyred  in 
the  reign  of  Septimius  Sevenis.  In  1680  a  musical  society  was  formed 
in  London  for  the  annual  commemoration  of  St.  Cecilia's  day.  "  An 
ode,  written  for  the  occasion,  was  set  to  music  by  the  most  able  pro- 
fessor, and  rehearsed  before  the  society  and  their  stewards  upon  the 
22d  November,  the  day  dedicated  to  the  patroness."  Dryden's  ode 
for  the  year  1687  was  set  to  music  "by  Draghi,  an  eminent  Italian 
composer."  Further  account  of  this  ode,  which  has  been  perhaps 
unduly  eclipsed  by  the  more  vivid  qualities  of  Alexander's  Feast,  will 
be  found  in  the  Scott-Saintsbury  ed.  of  Drydeti,  XI,  169. 

217  15.  Diapason.  A  chord  including  all  notes.  Cf.  The  Faery 
Queen,  ii.  9.  22,  Dryden's  avowed  source. 

217  17.  Jubal  struck  the  chorded  shell.  There  is  apparently  here 
some  confusion  between  Biblical  and  classical  story. 

218  52.     Her  organ.     St.  Cecilia  is  said  to  have  invented  the  organ. 
218  63.     Untune   the   sky.     Mr.   Saintsbury  remarks  :   "I   do   not 

understand  '  untune.'  "  Is  not  Dryden's  meaning  the  following :  Con- 
cord is  conceived  as  the  power  which  has  created  the  world  in  its  per- 
fection from  the  ground  note  to  the  last,  thus  completing  the  diapason. 
Correspondingly  the  untuning  of  the  spheres,  with  the  return  to  the  dis- 
cord of  chaos,  is  conceived  as  taking  place  when  the  trumpet  blast  of 
the  resurrection  shall  be  heard  announcing  that  "  the  dead  shall  live, 
the  living  die."  Professor  Kittredge  suggests  :  "  The  untuning  of  the 
spheres  is  the  same  as  the  destruction  of  the  world  —  the  spheres 
cease  to  be  tuneful  because  they  cease  to  exist." 

219.  King  Arthur  was  an  opera,  the  music  (which  was  much 
admired)  by  the  celebrated  Dr.  Purcell.  See  Burney's  History  of 
Music,  III,  492. 

219.  No,  No,  Poor  Suffering  Heart.  The  music  of  this  song  is  to 
be  found  in  D'Urfey's  Pills  to  Purge  Melancholy.  Mr.  Saintsbury 
remarks  upon  it :  "  The  verse  [of  Cleomenes'\  is  often  exquisite,  and  the 
song  No,  No,  Poor  Suffering  Heart ...  is  in  itself  a  triumphant  refuta- 
tion of  those  who  deny  passion  and  tenderness  in  poetry  to  Dryden ; 
but  for  a  few  turns  of  phrase,  the  best  name  of  the  Jacobean  age  might 
have  signed  it"  (Scott's  Dryden,  VIII,  212). 

220.  The  Miscellanies  of  Dryden  were  collections  of  poetry  by 
various  writers,  sometimes  of  pieces  which  had  already  appeared  else- 
where. The  First  Miscellany  was  published  in  1684,  the  Second  in 
the  next  year.  It  is  interesting  to  notice  that  some  of  the  most  notable 
writers  of  the  next  age  made  their  debut  in  this  irregular  periodical. 
Dryden  contributed  to  the  Fourth  Miscellany  in  1694. 


286  NOTES. 

11\.  Matthew  Prior,  for  years  an  able  and  useful  diplomatist,  held 
many  offices  of  political  importance  under  William  and  Anne,  the 
most  important  being  that  of  minister  plenepotentiary  to  the  Court  of 
France.  Some  still  profess  to  admire  his  epic  Solovioti,  others  find 
it  unreadable.  Prior's  occasional  verse  is  nearly  the  best  of  his  age ; 
his  shorter  lyrical  poems  have  earned  for  him,  not  altogether  unde- 
servedly, the  title,  the  English  Horatian. 

221.  Poems,  etc.  The  ed.  of  1709  seems  to  have  been  the  first 
genuine  publication  of  Prior's  poems.  There  had  been  an  unauthorized 
edition  bearing  a  similar  title  in  1707.  I  am  not  able  to  say  which  of 
my  selections  first  appeared  therein. 

221.  A  Song.  I  assign  this  song  to  about  the  year  1693,  ^"  i^ 
immediately  precedes  the  Hymn  to  Dr.  Piircell,  which  is  dated  1693- 
1694.  The  arrangement  of  the  collected  editions  of  Prior  seems 
roughly  chronological. 

222.  Love  Triumphant  was  Dryden's  last  drama.  It  was  not  a 
success. 

222  27.  In  only  thee.     In  thee  alone.     Cf.  190  7,  8. 

223  1.  The  merchant,  to  secure  his  treasure.  This  "  ode  "  pre- 
cedes the  famous  Ode  on  the  Taking  of  Namour,  which  bears  date 
1695. 

223  4.  Chloe.  Some  old  gossip  as  to  Prior's  Chloe  will  be  found 
in  Rimbault,  Fly  Leaves,  p.  6. 

224  11.     Fantastic.     Capricious. 

225.  George  Granville  was  a  dramatist  and  late  disciple  of  Waller, 
by  whom  he  was  praised.  Owing  to  his  espousal  of  the  cause  of  James, 
he  lived  in  literary  retirement  during  the  reign  of  William,  emerging 
into  public  life  with  the  accession  of  Queen  Anne.  Myra  was  the 
Countess  of  Newburgh.  "  As  he  wrote  verses  to  her  ladyship,"  says 
Dr.  Johnson  gruffly,  "  before  he  was  twenty,  he  may  be  forgiven  if  he 
regarded  the  face  more  than  the  mind."  Pope  dedicated  Windsor 
Forest   to  Lord  Lansdowne.     Cf.  verses  291-298. 

225.  William  Congreve  started  life  with  a  divided  ambition  —  to 
become  a  literary  man  and  to  be  "  the  first  gentleman  of  his  age,"  as 
an  old  phrase  puts  it.  He  achieved  a  substantial  success  in  both, 
giving  up  the  former  for  the  latter  about  the  year  1700.  Congreve's 
literary  reputation  rests  upon  his  sparkling  dramas.  In  his  lyrics, 
which  are  very  few,  he  combines  much  of  the  grace  of  the  earlier  age 
with  the  precision  of  the  age  to  come. 

226.  The  Secular  Masque  was  an  entertainment  to  commemorate 
what  the  author  was  pleased  to  consider  the  beginning  of  a  new  cen- 


NOTES.  287 

tury ;  it  was  really  the  beginning  of  the  hundredth  year.  The  original 
music  Malone  believes  to  have  been  by  Purcell.  It  was  later  set  by 
Dr.  Boyce  and  revived  at  Drury  Lane,  1749.  At  both  performances  the 
Masque  was  a  success,  the  Hunting  Song  was  long  especially  popular. 

226  4.     Wexing.     Waxing. 

227  5.     Course.     Chase. 


INDEX    OF    AUTHORS    AND    EDITORS. 


Names  printed  in  Roman  letters  deflate  authors  ;  those  in  italics,  editors  ;  the  dates 
following  are  those  of  birth,  earliest  authorship,  and  death.  When  the  editor  is 
unkno^vn,  MS.  or  other  source  is  given.  Original  titles  are  printed  in  Roman  ;  those 
assigned  by  others  than  the  author,  in  italics ;  first  lines  are  put  in  quotation  tnarks. 


Behn,  Aphara  (1640  —  1666  ?  —  1689) :  PAGE 

Song,  '  Love  in  fantastic  triumph  sat ' 200 

The  Charm  for  Constancy .  214 

'  O  love !  that  stronger  art  than  wine  ' 215 

Brathwaite,  Richard  (1588  ? —  161 1  —  1673)  '■ 

Mounting  Hyperboles 25 

Themista's  Reproof 48 

Broad-sheet : 

Lord  Strafford's  Meditations  in  the  Tower 104 

Brome,  Alexander  (1620 — 1653  —  1666): 

The  Resolve 182 

A  Mock  Song 182 

Brome,  Richard  (?  —  1623 — 1652?): 

Humility 24 

The  Merry  Beggars 103 

Carew^,  Thomas  (i  598  ?  —  ?  —  1639  ?) : 

The  Marigold 43 

The  Spring 63 

Persuasions  to  Love 64 

A  Cruel  Mistress 66 

Mediocrity  in  Love  rejected 67 

To  my  Inconstant  Mistress 68 

Persuasions  to  Joy 68 

A  Deposition  from  Love 69 

289 


290  INDEX   OF  AUTHORS  AND   EDITORS. 

Carew,  Thomas  :  page 

CeliaTsinging 70 

To  T.  H.,  a  Lady  Resembling  his  Mistress 70 

In  tiie  Person  of  a  Lady  to  her  Inconstant  Servant    ....  72 

Epitaph  on  Lady  Mary  Wentworth 73 

Song,  '  Ask  me  no  more  ' 74 

Murdering  Beauty 75 

Cartwright,  William  (1611  —  1630.' —  1643)  '• 

To  Cupid 94 

Venus 94 

To  Chloe 95 

A  Valediction 96 

Love  but  One 97 

Christ  Church  MS. : 

To  Time 4 

CoNGREVE,  William  (1670 — 1690 — 1729): 

Song,  '  See,  see,  she  wakes  ' 225 

Amoret 226 

Cotton,  Charles  (1630 — 1649  —  1687): 

Ode,  '  The  day  is  set ' 171 

Ode,  'Fair  Isabel' 172 

The  Morning  Quatrains 207 

Rondeau 210 

Song,  '  Why,  dearest,  shouldst  thou  weep  ' 210 

Les  Amours 211 

Song,  'Join  once  again' 212 

To  Celia,  Ode 212 

Laura  sleeping 213 

Cowley,  Abraham  (1618  —  1633  — 1667): 

A  Vote 59 

Ode  VI,  Upon  the  Shortness  of  Man's  Life 60 

The  Inconstant 127 

The  Chronicle 173 

Anacreontique  II,  Drinking 176 

Crashaw,  Richard  (161 3? —  1634  —  1649)  '■ 

Wishes  to  his  Supposed  Mistress 99 

A  Hymn  of  the  Nativity 113 

On  the  Assumption  of  the  Virgin  Mary 117 


INDEX   OF  AUTHORS   AND   EDITORS.  291 

Crashaw,  Richard:  page 

Love's  Horoscope \zo 

A  Song,  '  Lord,  when  the  sense  of  thy  sweet  grace  '    .     .     .     .140 

Davenant,  Sir  William  (1606 — 1618 — 166S)  : 

Song,  Against  Woman's  Pride 183 

Song,  '  The  lark  now  leaves  his  wat'ry  nest ' 184 

Dekker,  Thomas  (1570? —  1598  —  1641  ?) : 

Country  Glee 2 

Cast  away  Care 4 

Song  of  the  Cyclops 14 

Dorset,  Charles  Sackville,  Earl  of  (163S  —  1663?^ — 1706) : 

On  a  Lady  who  fancied  herself  a  Beauty 201 

Song,  '  Phyllis,  for  shame ' 202 

Dryden,  John  (1631  —  1649 — 1700): 

Incantation 187 

Song,  '  Ah,  fading  joy  ' 1S8 

'  You  pleasing  dreams  of  love  ' 193 

'  You  charmed  me  not ' 194 

'  Can  life  be  a  blessing  ' 201 

'  Farewell,  ungrateful  traitor  ' 203 

Song,  betwixt  a  Shepherd  and  a  Shepherdess 204 

A  Song,  for  Saint  Cecilia's  Day 216 

'  Fairest  isle,  all  isles  excelling  ' 219 

'  No,  no,  poor  suffering  heart ' 219 

A  Song,  to  a  Fair  Young  Lady 220 

Song  of  Jealousy 222 

Hunting  Song 226 

Egerton  MS.  : 

'  We  must  not  part ' 19 

'  Stay,  stay,  old  Time  ' 19 

Etheridge,  Sir  George  (1635  ?  —  1664  —  1691) : 

Song,  'Ladies,  though  to  your  conquering  eyes' 186 

To  a  Lady 199 

A  Song,  '  Ye  happy  swains  ' 199 

Flatman,  Thomas  (1637  —  1659 —  1688) : 

For  Thoughts 179 

A  Wish i8i 

The  Defiance      .     .     .• 198 


292  INDEX   OF  AUTHORS  AND   EDITORS. 

Fletcher,  Phineas  (1582  — 1627  ? —  1650)  :  page 

To  the  Soul 142 

Ford,  John  (1586 — 1606  — 1639?): 

Fly  hence,  Shadows 7 

A  Bridal  Song 7 

Song,  '  O  no  more,  no  more  ' 8 

Dirge 8 

Forde,  Thomas  (?  —  1647  —  1660  ?) : 

The  Busy  Alan  is  Free 135 

GoFFE,  Thomas  (1591  —  1620 —  1629) : 

Sylvia's  Bower 9 

Graham,  James,  see  Montrose. 

Granville,  George,  see  Lansdowne. 

Habington,  William  (1605  —  1634 —  1654) : 

To  Roses,  in  the  Bosom  of  Castara 29 

Upon  Castara's  Departure 30 

To  Castara  in  a  Trance 30 

Against  them  that  lay  Unchastity  to  the  Sex  of  Woman      .     .  31 

To  the  World 36 

Nox  nocti  indicat  scientiam 85 

His  Mistress  Flouted 86 

Harrington,  Henry  (?)  : 

Song,  '  Trust  the  form  of  airy  things  ' 178 

Hausted,  Peter  {?  —  1631  —  1645)  '• 

'  Have  pity.  Grief ' 28 

Herbert,  George  (1593  — 161 2 —  1633) : 

The  Altar 32 

Easter  Wings 32 

Employment 33 

Virtue 34 

The  Quip 34 

Frailty 35 

Herrick,  Robert  (1591  —  1616? — 1674)  : 

To  Dianeme 9 

Corinna  's  Going  A-Maying 10 

Night  Piece,  to  Julia 12 

To  Electra 13 


INDEX  OF  AUTHORS  AND   EDITORS.  293 

Herrick,  Robert  :  page 

A  Hymn  to  Love \t^ 

Upon  a  Maid 20 

An  Ode  for  Ben  Jonson 62 

Delight  in  Disorder 75 

To  Laurels 76 

To  the  Virgins,  to  make  Much  of  Time 76 

To  the  Western  Wind 77 

To  Primroses 77 

To  Anthea 78 


To  Meadows 


79 


To  Daffodils 80 

To  Blossoms 80 

His  Grange,  or  Private  Wealth 81 

To  Death 82 

A  Thanksgiving  to  God  for  his  House 83 

His  Winding-Sheet qo 

To  Perilla 136 

Upon  the  Loss  of  his  Mistresses 137 

His  Poetry  his  Pillar 137 

Jonson,  Ben  (1573  —  1595—1637): 

The  Shepherds'  Holiday I 

Hymn,  To  Pan 2 

Perfect  Beaziiy 16 

KiLLEGREW,  Sir  William  (1606 —  ? —  1695) : 

Song,  '  Come,  come,  thou  glorious  object ' 185 

King,  Henry  (1592  —  ? —  1669)  : 

Sonnet,  'Tell  me  no  more' 177 

Lansdowne,  Lord  (1667  —  1688  —  1735): 

Song,  'The  happiest  mortals  once  were  we' 225 

Lovelace,  Richard  (1618  —  1635  —  1658) : 

To  Lucasta,  going  beyond  the  Seas 131 

Song,  To  Lucasta,  on  going  to  the  Wars 132 

Song,  '  Amarantha,  sweet  and  fair ' 133 

The  Scrutiny 133 

To  Althea  from  Prison 134 

Mabbe,  James  (1572  —  1623 —  1642)  : 

'  Now  sleep,  and  take  thy  rest ' 25 

Waiting 25 


294  INDEX   OF  AUTHORS  AND   EDITORS. 

Marvell,  Andrew  {1621 — ? — 167S):  page 

The  Coronet 150 

Bermudas 151 

Clorinda  and  Damon 152 

A  Dialogue  between  Thyrsis  and  Dorinda 154 

The  Fair  Singer 157 

To  his  Coy  Mistress 158 

The  Picture  of  Little  T.  C 1 59 

The  Mower  to  the  Glow- Worms i6i 

The  Mower's  Song 161 

Making  Hay-Ropes 162 

Massinger,  Philip  (1583  —  1611  ?  — 1640) : 

Death  invoked 23 

Mat,  ThoiMas  (1595  — 1620 — 1650)  : 

Lovers  Prime 5 

Mayne,  Jasper  (1604  —  1630  —  1672) : 

Time  is  the  Feathered  Thing 138 

Milton,  John  (i6c8  —  1623 —  1674)  = 

On  Time 20 

Song  on  May  Morning 21 

An  Epitaph  on  Shakespeare 21 

Sonnet,  To  the  Nightingale 22 

Sonnet,  On  his  being  arrived  to  the  Age  of  Twenty-Three        .  23 

Song,  '  O'er  the  smooth  enamelled  green  ' 38 

Song,  '  Nymphs  and  shepherds,  dance  no  more  ' 38 

Song,  '  Sweet  Echo  ' 39 

The  Spirifs  Epilogue 42 

Sonnet,  When  the  Assault  was  intended  to  the  City  .     .     .     .113 

Sonnet,  To  a  Virtuous  Young  Lady 122 

Sonnet,  To  the  Lord  General  Cromwell 166 

Sonnet,  On  the  Late  Massacre  in  Piedmont 167 

Sonnet,  On  his  Blindness 168 

Sonnet,  On  his  Deceased  Wife 178 

Montrose  (1612  —  ? — 1650)  : 

'  My  dear  and  only  love  ' 140 

NoRRis,  John  (1657  —  1682  —  171 1)  : 

Hymn  to  Darkness 205 


INDEX   OF  AUTHORS  AND   EDITORS.  295 

Philips,  Katherine  (1631  —  1651  —  1664).:  page 

An  Answer  to  Another  persuading  a  Lady  to  Marriage  .     .     .   184 

Porter,  Walter  (1595  ? —  1632 —  1659) : 

'  Love  in  thy  youth  ' 27 

Disdain  returned 27 

Prior,  Matthew  (1664 — 16S7  —  1721): 

A  Song,  '  In  vain  you  tell  your  parting  lover  ' 221 

An  Ode,  '  The  merchant,  to  secure  his  treasure  ' 223 

To  Chloe  Weeping 223 

A  Song,  '  If  wine  and  music  have  the  power  ' 224 

QuARLES,  Francis  (1592 — 1620 — 1644)  '• 

'  O  whither  shall  I  fly  ? ' 53 

My  Beloved  is  mine  and  I  am  his 55 

Randolph,  Thomas  (1605 —  161 5  .'  —  1635) : 

An  Ode,  To  Master  Anthony  Stafford 44 

To  One  Admiring  herself  in  a  Looking-Glass 47 

Rochester,  John  Wilmot,  Earl  of  {1648  —  ?  —  1680)  : 

Song,  '  Absent  from  thee  I  languish  ' 194 

Love  and  Life 195 

Upon  drinking  in  a  Bowl 196 

Constancy I97 

A  Song,  '  My  dear  mistress  has  a  heart ' 197 

Sackville,  Charles,  see  Dorset. 

Sandys,  George  (1578  — 1615  —  1644) : 

Deo  Optimo  Maximo 56 

Sedley,  Sir  Charles  (1639.'' — 1688.' —  1701)  : 

To  a  very  Young  Lady 188 

Constancy 189 

'  Love  still  has  something  of  the  sea  ' 190 

Phyllis  Knotting 191 

'  Phyllis  is  my  Only  Joy  ' 192 

A  Song,  '  Phyllis,  men  say  that  all  my  vows  ' 192 

Sherburne,  Sir  Edward  (1618 —  1648—  1702) : 

The  Vow 163 

Weeping  and  Kissing 164 


296  INDEX   OF  AUTHORS  AND  EDITORS. 

Sherburne,  Sir  Edwarj):  page 

Novo  Inamoramento 164 

The  Sweetmeat 164 

Change  Defended 165 

The  Fountain 165 

Shirley,  James  (1596 —  1618  —  1666  ) : 

Love's  Hue  and  Cry 6 

Peace  restored 87 

Song  of  the  Nuns 88 

No  Armor  against  Fate 89 

Good  Morrow 125 

Fie  on  Love 126 

Death's  Subtle  IVays 167 

Stanley,  Thomas  {1625  —  1647  —  1678)  : 

The  Tomb 129 

The  Relapse 130 

Celia  Singing 131 

Suckling,  Sir  John  (1609 —  } —  1642) : 

'  Why  so  pale  and  wan,  fond  lover  ? ' 61 

True  Love 61 

Sonnet,  '  Dost  see  how  unregarded  ' 107 

Song,  '  I  prithee  spare  me  ' 107 

The  Siege 108 

Song,  '  Honest  lover  whatsoever  ' no 

Constancy in 

Song,  '  I  prithee  send  ' 112 

TOWNSEND,  AuRELIAN  (.'  —  }  —  1 643)  : 

Mercury  Complaining 26 

Vaughan,  Henry  (1622  —  1646  —  1695)  ■ 

To  Amoret,  gone  from  Home 126 

The  Retreat 143 

Peace 144 

Love,  and  Discipline 145 

The  World 145 

The  Hidden  Flower 147 

Departed  Friends 169 

The  Throne 170 


INDEX   OF  AUTHORS  AND   EDITORS.  297 

Waller,  Edmund  (1605  —  1629  ? —  16S7) :  i'age 

Song,  '  Stay,  Phoebus,  stay  ' i 

To  my  Young  Lady  Lucy  Sidney 49 

On  the  Friendship  betwixt  Saccharissa  and  Amoret    ...  50 

To  Amoret 55 

To  Phyllis 123 

On  a  Girdle 123 

To  Flavia 124 

On  the  Rose 125 

Of  the  Last  Verses  in  the  Book 216 

WiLMOT,  John,  see  Rochester. 

Wilson,  Dr.  John  : 

The  Expostulation 16 

Love's  Idolat)y 18 

Love  with  Eyes  and  Heart 18 

Wither,  George  (1588 —  1612 —  1667)  : 

A  Rocking  Hymn 91 

Wit 's  Recreations : 

The  Sad  Lover 08 


INDEX    OF    FIRST    LINES. 


PAGE 

Absent  from  thee  I  languish 

still 194 

A  funeral  stone 76 

Ah,  Ben 62 

Ah,  Chloris,  that  I  now  could 

sit 188 

Ah,  fading  joy  !  how  quickly 

art  thou  past 187 

Ah,    my    Perilla !     dost    thou 

grieve  to  see 136 

A  kiss  I  begged  :  but  smiling 

she 164 

All  my  past  life   is   mine   no 

more 195 

Amarantha,  sweet  and  fair  .  133 
And  here  the  precious  dust  is 

laid 73 

And  yet  anew  entangled,  see  .  164 
Ask  me  no  more  where  Jove 

bestows 74 

Ask  not  the  cause,  why  sullen 

spring 220 

A  sweet  disorder  in  the  dress  75 
Avenge,  O  Lord,  thy  slaugh- 
tered saints,  whose  bones   .   167 

Be  not  too  proud,  imperious 
dame 198 

Bid  me  not  go  where  neither 
suns  nor  showers  ....     96 


PAGE 

Bid  me  to  live,  and  I  will 
live 78 

Brave  iron,  brave  hammer, 
from  your  sound  .     .     .     .     14 

By  my  life  I  vow 163 

Can  life  be  a  blessing    .     .     .  201 

Captain  or  colonel,  or  knight 
in  arms 113 

Cast  away  care,  he  that  loves 
sorrovfcf 4 

Come,  come  ;  away  !  the 
spring 103 

Come,  come,  thou  glorious 
object  of  my' sight      .     .     .   185 

Come,  shepherds,  come,  im- 
pale your  brows     ....       9 

Come  thou,  who  art  the  wine 
and  wit 90 

Come,  we  shepherds  whose 
blest  sight 113 

Comforts  lasting,  loves  in- 
creasing    7 

Cromwell,  our  chief  of  men, 
who  through  a  cloud       .     .166 

Damon,  come  drive  thy  flocks 
this  way 152 

Dear,  do  not  your  fair  beauty 
wrong 5 


299 


300 


INDEX   OF  FIRST  LINES. 


Dorinda's  sparkling  wit  and 

eyes 201 

Dost  see  how  unregarded  now  107 

Ev'n  like  two  little  bank-divid- 
ing brooks 55 

Fair  Amoret  is  gone  astray  .  226 
Fair  copy  of  my  Celia's  face  .  70 
Fair  daffodils,  we  weep  to  see  80 
Fairest  isle,  all  isles  excelling  2 1 9 
Fair  Isabel,  if  aught  but  thee  172 
Fair  pledges  of  a  fruitful  tree  80 
Fair !     that    you    may    truly 

know        51 

Fancy    and    1    last    evening 

walked 126 

Farewell,  ungrateful  traitor  .  202 
Fine  young  folly,  though  you 

were 86 

Fly,   envious   Time,  till   thou 

run  out  thy  race  ....  20 
Fly  hence,  shadows,  that  do 

keep 7 

Fond  Love,  no  more      .     .     -135 

Fond  soul  is  this 142 

Forbear,    bold    youth  ;    all 's 

heaven  here 184 

Forbear,  fair  Phillis,  O  forbear  2 1  o 
Forsake  me  not  so  soon  ;  Cas- 

tara  stay 30 

From  harmony,  from  heavenly 

harmony 216 

Gather  ye  rosebuds  while  ye 
may 76 

Get  up,  get  up  for  shame,  the 
blooming  morn      ....     10 

Give  me  more  love,  or  more 
disdain 67 


Glories,  pleasures,  pomps,  de- 
lights, and  ease      ....  8 

Go,  empty  joys 104 

Go,  lovely  rose 125 

Good  morrow  unto   her  who 

in  the  night 125 

Greedy  lover,  pause  awhile     .  16 

Had  we  but  world  enough 
and  time 1  58 

Hail,  thou  most  sacred  vener- 
able thing 205 

Happy  those  early  days,  when 

i 143 

Hark  !  she  is  called,  the  part- 
ing hour  is  come  .  .  .117 
Have   pity.    Grief ;    I    cannot 

pay 28 

Haymakers,    rakers,   reapers, 

and  mowers 2 

Hears   not    my    Phyllis    how 

the  birds 191 

Here  she  lies,  in  bed  of  spice  20 
Her  eyes  the  glow-worm  lend 

thee 12 

Honest  lover  whatsoever  .  .110 
How    soon    hath    Time,    the 

subtle  thief  of  youth  ...     23 

I  cannot  change,  as  others  do  197 
I  dare  not  ask  a  kiss  ...  13 
If   the   quick    spirits   in   your 

eye 68 

If    to    be     absent     were    to 

be 131 

If  wine  and   music  have  the 

power 224 

I  have  lost,  and  lately,  these  .   137 
I  '11  gaze  no  more  on  that  be- 
witched face      ...  -75 


INDEX   OF  FIRST  LINES. 


301 


I    never  yet    could  see    that 

face 127 

In     Love's     name     you    are 

charged  hereby  ....  6 
In  vain  you  tell  your  parting 

lover 221 

I    prithee    send  me  back  my 

heart 112 

I    prithee    spare    me,    gentle 

boy 107 

Iris,   to  keep  my   soul  entire 

and  true r  214 

I  saw  Eternity  the  other  night  145 
It  is  not,  Celia,  in  our  power  199 
It  was  a  beauty  that  I  saw  .  16 
I    walked    the    other   day    to 

spend  my  hour  .  .  .  .147 
I  was  foretold,  your  rebel  sex  69 
I  will  confess 13 

Join  once  again,  my  Celia, 
join 212 

Ladies,  though  to  your  con- 
quering eyes 186 

Lady,  that  in  the  prime  of 
earliest  youth 122 

Leave,  fairest,  leave,  I  pray  no 
more 165 

Lord,  thou  hast  given  me  a 
cell 83 

Lord,  when  the  sense  of  thy 
sweet  grace 140 

Love,  brave  Virtue's  younger 
brother 120 

Love  in  fantastic  triumph  sat     200 

Love  in  thy  youth,  fair  maid  ; 
be  wise 27 

Love  still  has  something  of 
the  sea 190 


Margarita  first  possessed  .  .173 
Mark  that  swift  arrow  how  it 

cuts  the  air 60 

Methought  I  saw  my  late  es- 
poused saint 178 

My  dear  and  only  love,  I  pray  140 

My  dear  mistress  has  a  heart  197 
My  mind  was   once  the  true 

survey 161 

My  soul,  there  is  a  country     .  144 

No,  no,  poor  suffering  heart, 

no  change  endeavor  .  .  .219 
Nor    Love    nor   Fate  dare   I 

accuse 24 

Not,  Celia,  that  I  juster  am  .  189 
Not  to  the  hills  where  cedars 

move 181 

Now  fie  on  love  !  it  ill  befits  .  1 26 
Now  sleep,  and  take  thy  rest  25 
Now  that  winter 's  gone,  the 

earth  hath  lost 63 

Now  the  bright  morning  star, 

day's  harbinger      .     .     .     .     i\ 

O  Chloe,  why  wish  you  that 

your  years 95 

O  fly,  my  soul !   what  hangs 

upon 88 

Of  Pan  we  sing,  the  best  of 

singers,  Pan 2 

O  love  that  stronger  art  than 

wine 215 

O   nightingale,    that   on   yon 

bloomy  spray 22 

Only  a  little  more  ....  137 
O,  no  more,  no  more,  too  late  8 
O  thou  who  all  things  hast  of 

nothing  made 56 

O  turn  away  those  cruel  eyes   130 


302 


INDEX   OF  FIRST  LINES. 


Out  upon  it,  I  have  loved  .     .   1 1 1 
O  whither  shall  I   fly?   what 
path  untrod 53 

Phyllis,  for  shame  !  let  us  im- 
prove   202 

Phyllis  is  my  only  joy    .     .     .192 

Phyllis,  men  say  that  all  my 
vows 19- 

Phyllis,  why  should  we  delay   123 

Read  in  these  roses  the  sad 
story 7- 

Roses  in  breathing  forth  their 
scent 131 

See,   see,  she  wakes,  Sabina 

wakes 225 

See    these   two  little    brooks 

that  slowly  creep  ....  97 
See,  whilst  thou  weep'st,  fair 

Chloe,  see 223 

See  with  what  simplicity  .  •  1 59 
She  that   I  pursue,  still  flies 

me 211 

Since   in   a  land  not  barren 

still 145 

Skin    more   pure   than    Ida's 

snow 25 

Stay,  Phoebus,  stay  ....  5 
Stay,  stay,  old  Time  !  repose 

thy  restless  wings  .  ...  19 
Stranger,    whoe'er   thou    art, 

that  stoop'st  to  taste  .  .  165 
Sweet  baby  sleep ;   what  ails 

my  dear 91 

Sweet,  be  not  proud  of  those 

two  eyes 9 

Sweet   western    wind,    whose 

luck  it  is 77 


PAGE 

Tell  me,  lovely,  loving  pair  .  50 
Tell  me  no  more  how  fair  she 

is 177 

Tell  me  not  of  a  face  that 's 

fair 182 

Tell  me  not,  sweet,  I  am  un- 
kind      132 

Tell  me,  Thyrsis,  tell  your  an- 
guish     204 

That  which  her  slender  waist 

confined 123 

The    day   is    set,    did    earth 

adorn 171 

The  glories  of  our  blood  and 

state 89 

The   happiest    mortals    once 

were  we 225 

The  lark  now  leaves  his  wat'ry 

nest 184 

The  merchant,  to  secure  his 

treasure 223 

The  thirsty  earth  soaks  up  the 

rain 176 

They    are   all   gone   into  the 

world  of  light 169 

Think  not  'cause  men  flatt'ring 

say 64 

Think'st  thou  that   this  love 

can  stand 162 

This  only  grant  me,  that  my 

means  may  lie 59 

Thou  bidd'st  me  come  away  .  82 
Thou     gav'st     me     late     to 

eat 164 

Though  clock 81 

Thoughts!  what  are  they.  .  179 
Thou,  who  didst  never  see  the 

light 94 

Thus,  thus  begin    the  yearly 

rites I 


INDEX   OF  FIRST  LINES. 


303 


Time  is  the  feathered  thing    .   138 

'T  is  not  your  beauty  can  en- 
gage      124 

'T  is  now  since  I  sat  down 
before 108 

'T  is  true,  I  never  was  in 
love 182 

To  make  a  final  conquest  of 
all  me 157 

Trust  the  form  of  airy  things  178 

Venus,  redress  a  wrong  that 's 

done 94 

Victorious  men  of  earth,   no 

more 167 

Victorious        Time,        whose 

winged  feet  do  fly  .  .  .  4 
Vows  are  vain ;  no  suppliant 

breath 30 

Vulcan,  contrive    me  such    a 

cup 196 

We  must  not  part,  as  others 

do 19 

We  read  of  kings  and  gods 

that  kindly  took  ....  66 
What  makes  me  so  unnimbly 

rise 26 

What  need  my  Shakespeare 

for  his  honored  bones  .  .  21 
What  state  of  life  can  be  so 

blest 222 

When,    Celia,    must    my   old 

days  set 212 

When,  cruel   fair   one,  I  am 

slain 129 

When  death  shall  snatch  us 

from  these  kids  .  .  .  -154 
When    for    the    thorns   with 

which  I  long,  too  long  .     .150 


When  I  behold  my  mistress' 

face 18 

When  I  consider  how  my  light 

is  spent 168 

When  I  survey  the  bright  .  85 
When  Love  with  unconfined 

wings 134 

When  on  mine  eyes  her  eyes 

first  shone 18 

When    on    the    altar   of    my 

hand 72 

When  thou,  poor  excommu- 
nicate   68 

When     we    for     age     could 

neither  read  nor  write  .  .216 
When  with  these  eyes,  closed 

now  by  thee 170 

Where  the  remote  Bermudas 

ride 151 

Whoe'er  she  be 99 

Why  art  thou  slow,  thou  rest 

of  trouble.  Death  ....  23 
Why    came    I    so    untimely 

forth 49 

Why,  dearest,  shouldst  thou 

weep  when  I  relate  .  .  .210 
Why  dost  thou  seem  to  boast, 

vainglorious  sun  ....  183 
Why     do     ye    weep,     sweet 

babes .''  Can  tears  ...  77 
Why  should  I  wrong  my  judg- 
ment so 98 

Why  shouldst  thou   swear  I 

am  forsworn 133 

Why  so  pale  and  wan,  fond 

lover 61 

Winds,  whisper  gently  whilst 

she  sleeps 213 

With    horns    and    hounds    I 

waken  the  day      ....  226 


304 


INDEX   OF  FIRST  LINES. 


Ye    blushing    virgins    happy 

are 29 

Ye  happy  swains,  whose  hearts 

are  free 199 

Ye  have  been  fresh  and  green  79 
Ye   living   lamps,    by    whose 

dear  light 161 

You    charmed    me    not    with 

that  fair  face 194 


You  pleasing  dreams  of  love 
and  sweet  delight  .     .     .     .193 

You  that  think  love  can  con- 
vey  70 

You  twice  ten  hundred  dei- 
ties        187 

You  virgins,  that  did  late  de- 
spair     87 


INDEX    TO    INTRODUCTION    AND    NOTES. 


Abbott,  Dr.,  Shakespearean  Gram- 
mar, 229,  232,  et passim. 

Abdelazer,  282. 

.^lian,  261. 

Age  of  repression,  The,  Ixiii. 

Aglaura,  251. 

Albiori's  Triumph,  239. 

Amorous  War,  The,  263. 

Anacreon,  276,  281. 

Anglican  Catholic  approval  of  art, 
xlv,  liii. 

Anne,  Queen,  xxxiii,  Ix,  281,  286. 

Arber,  Professor,  ed.  of  Putten- 
ham,  xxvii  ;  of  Castara,  240 ; 
English  Garner,  235,  241,  260. 

Arcades,  242,  246  ;  quoted,  xvii. 

Arcadian  Princess,  The,  247. 

Argonaiitica,  235. 

Arnold,  Matthew,  Ixii. 

Art  and  Morals,  Divorce  of,  ix-xi. 

Ashton's  Social  Life  in  the  Reign 
of  Queefi  Anne,  281. 

Bacon,  Lord,  xxvii,  xliii,  241,  250. 

Bagehot,  Walter,  xi. 

Barnes,  Barnabe,  xlvii. 

Beaumont,  Francis,  247,  268,  277. 

Beaumont,  Sir  John,  xii. 

Bede,  xlii. 

Behn,  Aphara,  Ixviii,  282,  284. 


Beloe's    Anecdotes    of   Literature, 

267. 
Biblical  paraphrases  in  verse,  xlvii. 
Biographica  Britannica,  230. 
Blackmore,  Sir  Richard,  liv. 
Brand's  Popular  Antiquities,  23. 1, 

237.  255,  268. 
Brathwaite,  Richard,  238. 
Breton,  Nicholas,  xlvii,  271. 
Britannia' s  Pastorals,  243. 
Broken  Heart,  The,  233. 
Brome,    Alexander,  lix,   257,  265, 

278,  279. 
Brome,  Richard,  xx,  238,  259. 
Browne,    William,    xvi,  243,    244, 

252,  254. 
Browning,  Robert,  Ivii. 
Bryant,  William  Cullen,  Ixiv. 
Buckhurst,  Lord,  xxii. 
BuUen,    Mr.,    More    Lyrics,    230 ; 

238,  239,  247  ;  Musa  Proterva, 
260,  277,  284 ;  ed.  of  Davison's 
Poetical  Rhapsody,  266  ;  274, 
278,  280. 

Bunyan.-John,  Iviii. 

Burnet,  Bishop,  quoted,  280. 

Burney's  History  of  Music,  285. 

Burns,  253. 

Butler,  Samuel,  282. 

Byron,  Lord,  xiii. 


305 


306 


INDEX    TO   INTRODUCTION  AND   NOTES. 


Caedmon,  xlii. 

Campbell,  Thomas,  248,  278. 

Campion,  Thomas,  xlii,  233,  244, 

253.  259- 
Careless    Shepherdess,     The,    233, 

265. 

Carew,  Thomas,  xi  ;  quoted,  xii, 
xxxiv  ;  xiii,  xv,  xxii,  xxiii,  xxvii, 
xxxiii  ;  contrasted  with  Herrick, 
xxxiv-xlii  ;  his  religious  lyrics, 
xxxiv  ;  occasional  verse,  xxxv ; 
a  poet  of  the  court,  xxxvi ;  re- 
served temper,  xxxvii;  vers  de 
societe,  xxxix  ;  his  trochaic  octo- 
syllabics, xlii  ;  xlv,  Hi,  Ixiv,  Ixv, 
Ixvii ;  authorship  confused  with 
Shirley,  231,  232  ;  235,  236,  240, 
241,  246,  249,  252,  253,  260, 
262,  266,  267,  279. 

Carey,  Lucius,  Lord  Falkland, 
xxi,  xxiii. 

Carlyle,  Thomas,  Ixiii. 

Car7nen  Deo  Nostra,  268. 

Cartwright,  William,  xxii,  xxiii, 
xxxiii,  Iv,  lix,  Ixv,  249,  257,  266, 
280. 

Castara,  xxii,  1,  240. 

Catullus,  xiii,  234. 

Celestina,  239. 

Chalmers's  English  Poets,  265,  273, 
276,  279. 

Charles  I,  xiv,  xv,  et passim. 

Charles  IL  Iviii,  Ixii,  et  passim. 

Cheerful  Airs  and  Ballads,  235. 

Child,  Dr.  Clarence  G.,  xxvii, 
xxviii. 

Child,  Professor  F.  J.,  English  and 
Scottish  Popular  Ballads,  229. 

Cicero,  248. 

Classicism,  x,  xviii,  xix,  Ix-lxiii; 
assimilative,  empirical,  and   re- 


strictive, xxxiii  ;  of  Carew  and 
Herrick,  xxxv ;  theories  as  to 
the  origin  of,  Ix. 

Claudian,  251. 

Cleodora,  256. 

Cleot?iencs,  285. 

Clieveland,  John,  xxii;  quoted, 
xxix,  xli ;  lix. 

Coleridge,  Samuel  Taylor,  276. 

Collection  of  Poetns,  A,  Lans- 
downe,  2S6. 

Collier,  J.  P.,  246. 

Comedies,  Tragi-Comedies,  and 
Other  Poems,  Cartwright,  257. 

Comiis,  xvii,  243,  244,  246,  271. 

Conceit,  The  Seventeenth  Century 
fondness  for,  xxvii ;  early  use 
by  Sidney,  xxviii ;  illustrations 
of,  xxix,  xxxiii,  xli;  varieties  of, 
xxix  ;  not  wholly  referable  to 
Donne,  xxx ;  Donne's  use  of, 
and  Crashaw's  distinguished, 
xxx,  xxxiii;  Cowley's  use  of, 
xxxiii,  Ixiv,  231,  237,  260,  263. 

Congreve,  William,  quoted,  Ixviii ; 
286. 

Conservative  reaction  in  literature, 
Ix ;  its  value  and  meaning,  Ixiii ; 
Ixv. 

Constable,  Henry,  xlvii. 

Contention  of  Ajax  and  Ulysses, 
The,  256. 

Corbet,  Richard,  277. 

Cota,  Rodrigo,  239. 

Cotton,  Charles,  xv,  xl,  lix  ;  his 
debt  to  Carew  and  Walton,  Ixiv; 
/231,  251,  275,  276,  279,  283. 

Cowley,  Abraham,  xxiii,  xxv,  xxvi, 
xxvii-xxix ;  quoted,  xxxiii;  Hi, 
liv ;  long  career,  Ix  ;  great  re- 
pute, Ixiv  ;  eclecticism,  ib.\  rela- 


INDEX    TO   INTRODUCTION  AND   NOTES. 


307 


tion  to  Donne,  ih.;  Ixv,  231, 
247,  250,  251,  265,  276,  283. 

Crashaw,  Richard,  xv ;  quoted, 
xxxi ;  his  use  of  conceit  con- 
trasted with  Donne's,  xxxi- 
xxxiii;  xlv,  xlvii ;  at  Cambridge, 
li;  artistic  and  devotional  tem- 
per, ib. ;  goes  over  to  Rome,  lii ; 
rhapsodic  nature  of  his  poetry, 
ib.,  liii;  liv,  Ivii,  Ix,  Ixv,  237,  250, 
258,  259,  261,  263,  26S,  269,  279. 

Criticism,  Eighteenth  Century,  of 
conceit,  xxiv. 

Cromwell,  Oliver,  272-274. 

Cupid  and  Death,  274. 

Darwin,  Erasmus,  231. 

Davenant,  Sir  William,  xxiii, 
xxxiii,  xxxvi,  Ixiv,  246,  262,  279, 
282. 

Dekker,  Thomas,  xx,  xxiii,  229, 
230. 

Delights  of  the  Muses,  The,  li,  263. 

Denham,  Sir  John,  Ixiv. 

De  Quincey,  Thomas,  quoted,  xiii ; 
xxvii,  xxxiii. 

Donne,  John,  xi,  xv ;  character  of 
his  poetry,  xix,  xxiii  ;  xxii ;  his 
imitators,  xxiii ;  xxiv,  xxv  ;  con- 
tempt for  form,  xxiv ;  his  satires, 
xxvi ;  xxvii;  quoted,  xxx;  use 
of  conceit,  xxx,  xxxi ;  contrasted 
with  Crashaw,  xxxii ;  xxxiv- 
xxxvi,  Ivii,  Ixv,  Ixvi,  231,  232, 
235'  '^yi^  240,  241,  251,  257,  258, 
262,  263,  265-267,  277. 

Dorset,  Earl  of,  xxii,  xxv,  Ixviii, 
28c,  282. 

Dowden,  Professor,  231. 

Drayton,  Michael,  xvi,  Ixv,  232, 
244,  245,  247,  252,  261. 


Drummond,  William,  Ixvii,  244. 

Drury,  Mr.,  his  ed.  of  Waller, 
quoted,  247,  248,  284;  264,  265  ; 
his  life  of  Katherine  Philips, 
quoted,  280. 

Dryden,  John,  xiii ;  quoted,  xxv, 
xxvi,  xxix  ;  xxvii ;  practice  of 
devotional  poetry,  liv  ;  range  of 
subject  contrasted  with  Jonson 
and  Pope,  Ixi  ;  follows'Jonsoa 
in  the  employment  of  occasional 
verse,  satire,  and  criticism,  ib.  ; 
his  lyrics,  //'.,  Ixii,  Ixviii;  Ixiv- 
Ixvi,  231,  242,  249,  271,  280-283, 
285,  286. 

Duke  of  Guise,  The,  283. 

D'Urfey,  Tom,  xx,  285. 

Dyce,  A.,  ed.  of  Shirley,  232,  236. 

Egerton  MS.,  235. 

Elizabethan  literature.   Nature  of, 

ix  ;  contrasted  with  Seventeenth 

Century  literature,  ix,  x. 
Elizabethan  Lyrics,  A  Book  of,  ix, 

229,  233,  240,  247,  256,  260,  279. 
Elizabeth,  Queen,  ix.,x\v,et passim. 
Emblems  Divine  and  Moral,  xlix, 

248,  249,  258. 
Emperor  of  the  East,  The,  238. 
English  Gentletvoman,  The,  238. 
Etheridge,  Sir  George,  2S0. 
Euripides,  261,  277. 
Evelyn,  John,  282. 
EveJiing's  Love,  An,  281. 

Faery  Queen,  The,  xviii,   243,  245, 

246,  285. 
Fairfax,  Edward,  Ixv,  Ixvii,  274. 
Fairfax,  Lord,  270,  273. 
Faithful    Shepherdess,     The,    243, 

245. 


308 


INDEX    TO   INTRODUCTION  AND   NOTES. 


Father'' s  Testament,  A,  269. 
Fenton's  Waller,  230,  231,  248,  265. 
Ferrar,  Nicholas,  xlvi,  li,  241. 
Flatman,  Thomas,  Ixvii,  277,  278. 
Fleay,  Mr.  F.  G.,  229,  230,  256. 
Fletcher,  Dr.  Giles,  xvi,  269. 
Fletcher,  Dr.  Joseph,  269. 
Fletcher,  Giles,  the  younger,  269. 
Fletcher,  John,  xx,  238,  243,  245, 

253,  268,  269. 
Fletcher,  Phineas,  xvi,  269. 
Ford,  John,  xx,  xxii,  229,  230,  232, 

233- 
Forde,  Thomas,  268. 
Fragnienta  Aurea,  260. 

Gascoigne,  George,  quoted,  xxviii ; 
xliii. 

Gifford's  Shirley,  12,2. 

Goffe,  Thomas,  xx,  233,  265. 

Gosse,  Mr.,  Fro7ii  Shakespeare  to 
Pope,  Ix,  Ixiv,  230,  24S,  265 ; 
239,  265 ;  Eighteenth  Ceutu>-y 
Literature,  Ix,  Ixiv,  Ixvi. 

Graham,  James.     See  Montrose. 

Granville,  George.  See  Lans- 
downe. 

Gray,  Thomas,  237. 

Greene,  Robert,  xxiii,  252,  268, 
271. 

Grosart,  Dr.,  his  ed.  of  Herrick, 
xxii,  XXXV,  234,  254  ;  of  Herbert, 
liii;  Vaughan,  Iv,  270,  275; 
Sylvester,  241  ;  Cowley,  247, 
251;  Quarles,  248,  249;  Greene, 
252  ;  Crashaw,  259,  262  ;  Fuller 
Worthies''  Miscellanies,  260, 
283;  Marvell,  271;  276. 

Habington,  William,  xxii,  xxiii,  1, 
Iviii,  239,  240. 


Hale,  Professor  E.  E.,  Jr.,  his  ed.  of 

Herrick,  Iv,  233-235,  252,  254, 

256,  261,  263. 
Haleluiah,  256. 
Hales,  Professor,  xxv. 
Hallam,  Henry,  277. 
Hannah,  Dr.,  ed.  of  Raleigh,  260; 

Courtly  Poets,  268. 
Harrington,  Henry,  277. 
Hausted,  Peter,  239. 
Hawkins's  History  of  Music,  243. 
Hazlitt,  Mr.  W.  C.,  ed.  of  Carew, 

xxii,    232,    246,    253;     Herrick, 

235  ;  Randolph,  247. 
Hazlitt,  William,  xiii. 
Henrietta  Maria,  Queen,  231,  250, 

258- 

Herbert,  George,  xv,  xxiii,  xxxiii, 
xlv ;  delivery  of  his  Temple, 
xlvi ;  xlvii ;  his  popularity,  1  ;  li ; 
purity  of  spirit,  Puritanism  and 
self-restraint,  lii;  contrasted  with 
Crashaw,  ib.;  quoted,  liii;  241, 
242,  262,  269. 

Herrick,  Robert,  xi,  xiii,  xv,  xxii ; 
quoted,  xxiii,  xxxvii,  xl,  xli ; 
contrasted  with  Carew,  xxxiv- 
xlii ;  his  religious  lyrics,  xxxiv, 
xlv,  liii ;  love  of  nature,  xxxv, 
xxxvi ;  occasional  verse,  xxxvi ; 
Hedonism,  xxxviii ;  constructive 
excellence,  xiii ;  metrical  invent- 
iveness, ib.;  lii,  Ivi,  233,  234, 
235,  240,  247,  252,  254,  255,  258, 
261,  264,  268,  270,  279. 

Hesiod,  244. 

Hesperides,  233,  252,  254,  264,  268 
xi,  xxxvi. 

Heywood,  Thomas,  xxiii. 

Hilton,  John,  235. 

Hoi  burn  Drollery,  253. 


INDEX    TO   INTRODUCTION  AND   NOTES. 


309 


Horace,  xiii,  251. 
Howard,  Sir  Robert,  280. 
Howell,  James,  xxii,  xxiii,  257,  263, 

277. 
Hudibras,  282. 
Hugo,  Herman,  249. 

Imposture,  The,  256. 
Indian  EfHperor,  The,  280. 
Indian  Queen,  The,  280. 
Ingelow,  Jean,  249,  258. 

James  I,  ix,  xiv,  et passim. 

Johnson,  Dr.,  his  critique  of  '  the 
metaphysical  poets,'  xxiv,  xxv ; 
286,  xxvi,  Ixiv. 

Jones,  Inigo,  239. 

Jonson,  Ben,  xi,  xv ;  his  manner 
in  poetry,  xviii-xx;  his  influence, 
ib.;  his  classicism,  xix,  xxxiii ; 
literary  dictatorship,  xxi ;  the 
'sons  of  Ben,'  xxi-xxiii,  255; 
xxxiv-xxxvi,  xl,  Iv;  use  of  occa- 
sional verse,  Ixi ;  his  lyrics ;  ib. ; 
his  influence  on  the  subject- 
matter  of  later  poetry,  ib.,  229, 
232,  235,238,241,244,  252,254, 
265,  277,  280. 

Jonsotius  Virbius,  xxi,  xxii,  268,  277. 

Jovial  Crew,  The,  or  The  Merry 
Beggars,  259. 

Juvenal,  xxv,  Iv,  Ixii. 

Keats,  xiii,  xlii. 

Killegrew,  Sir  William,  280. 

King,    Henry,  Bishop,    xxi,  xxiii, 

xliii,  lix,  277. 
King  Arthur,  Dryden's,  285. 
Kittredge,  Professor,  242,  249,  259, 

272,  285. 
Knox,  John,  242. 


Lactantius,  254. 

V Allegro,  244. 

Lansdowne,  Lord,  George  Gran- 
ville, 286. 

last  Remains,  vSuckling,  261. 

Lawes,  Henry,  xx,  242-244,  254, 
267,  277. 

Lee,  Nathaniel,  283. 

Le  Gallienne,  Mr.,  253. 

Letters  of  State,  273. 

Lodge,  Thomas,  xiii,  271. 

London''s  Tempe,  234. 

Love  in  a  Tub,  280. 

Love  Triumphant,  286. 

Lovelace,  Richard,  xxiv,  xxxiii, 
lix,  240,  266. 

Lover^s  Melancholy,  The,  233. 

Lover's  Watch,  The,  284. 

Love''s  Labyrinth,  268. 

Loyal  Garlattd,  The,  282. 

Lucasta,Epodes,  Odes,  Sonnets,  and 
Songs,  266. 

Lucky  Chance,  The,  284. 

Lucretius,  245. 

Lyly,  John,  xx,  279. 

Lyric,  The  seventeenth  century, 
justification  of  the  secular,  xiii; 
poetic  influences  upon  the,  xv- 
XX,  xlii ;  the  secular,  xxxiv-xlii ; 
the  devotional,  xlii-lix  ;  decline 
of  the,  Ixvii ;  becomes  conven- 
tional, ib.;  artificial  and  insin- 
cere, Ixviii. 

Mabbe,  James,  239. 

Magister,  Thomas,  261. 

Malherbe,  Ixvi. 

Manlius,  254. 

Marlowe's  Lusfs  Dominion,  282. 

Marmion,  Shakerley,  xxi. 

Martial,  Epigratns,  xi,  238. 


310 


INDEX    TO   INTRODUCTION  AND   NOTES. 


Marvell,  Andrew,  xv,  xl;  his  poetic 
period,  liv ;  devotional  verse, 
ib.\  love  of  nature,  his  religious 
pastorals,  ib.;  Ivi,  Iviii,  lix,  Ixiv, 
253,  270,  271,  272,  281. 

Massinger,  Philip,  xx,  238. 

Masson,  Professor  D.,  Life  of 
Milton,  234,  237,  245,  246, 
277. 

May,  Thomas,  xx,  xxi,  230. 

Mayne,  Jasper,  xxii,  257,  268. 

Merry  Beggars,  The,  259. 

'  Metapliysical  Poets,'  The,  xxiv- 
xxvi. 

Middleton,  Thomas,  2S0. 

Milton,  John,  xiii ;  his  position  as 
a  world  poet,  xiv;  his  artistic 
purpose,  z(^.;  Spenser's  influence 
on,  xvi-xviii;  classical  allusion, 
xvii,  xviii,  244 ;  scholarship, 
xviii ;  religious  poetry,  xlii,  xlvii ; 
power  of  artistic  sincerity,  ih.; 
liv,  Ivi,  Iviii-lxi,  Ixiv,  234-238, 
242-246,  261-264,  267,  270-275, 
277,  282. 

Miscellanies  of  Cowley,  276 ;  of 
Dryden,  285. 

Miscellany,  The  Devotional,  xlvii. 

Miscellany,  The  Poetical,  xx,  xxi. 

Mistress,  The,  265. 

Moliere,  28 1. 

Monk,  General,  252. 

Montrose,  Marquess  of,  lix,  268. 

More,  Henry,  283. 

Morley,  Professor,  ed.  of  Herbert, 
xlvi;  ed.  of  Peele,  267. 

Morley 's  First  Book  of  Madrigals, 
252. 

Mulberry  Garden,  The,  280. 

Murray,  Dr.,  xxvii. 

Musarum  Deliciae,  241. 


]\/usica  Antiqiia,  230. 
Mysticism,  Religious,  Ivii. 

Napier's  Montrose  and  the  Cove- 
nanters, 268. 

Nashe,  Thomas,  241,  244. 

Nature,  Love  of,  in  poetry,  xiv, 
xxiii,  XXXV,  xl,  liv,  Ivi,  Ixiv. 

New  Inn,  The,  235. 

New  Miscellany  of  Poems,  A,  282. 

Nichols,  J.,  229. 

Nicholson,  Dr.,  271,  272. 

Noble  Numbers,  liii,  255. 

Norris,  John,  Iviii,  Ixvii,  283. 

Northern  Lass,  The,  238. 

Notes  and  Queries,  252,  253. 

Occasional  verse,  Carew's  em- 
ployment of,  XXXV  ;  Herrick's, 
xxxvi ;  Jonson's,  Ixi ;  Dryden 's 
and  Pope's,  Ixii;  259;  Milton 
and,  273,  274. 

Old  Couple,  The,  230. 

Oldmixon,  John,  Ixviii. 

Oroonoko,  282. 

Overbury,  Sir  Thomas,  Ixv. 

Ovid,  249,  250. 

Palgrave,  Mr.,  quoted,  233  ;  259, 

267,  272,  283. 
Pattys  Anniversary,  229. 
Parnell,  Thomas,  xxvi,  liv. 
Pastoral,  The,  xvi,  xxii,  liv,  I  v. 
Pattison,    Mark,    ed.    of    Milton's 

Sonnets,  quoted,  xliii,  236,  237, 

261,  263,  273,  275,  277  ;  Life  of 

Milton,  274. 
Peele,  George,  267. 
Pepys,  Samuel,  252. 
Percy,  Bishop,  267. 
Persius,  280. 


INDEX    TO   INTRODUCTION  AND   NOTES. 


311 


Philips,  Edward,  272,  273. 

Philips,  Katherine,  Ixviii,  279,  2S0. 

Plato,  256,  266. 

Playford,  Henry,  xx ;  his  Select 
Airs,  264  ;  his  Theater  of  Music, 
2S4. 

Pliny,  261. 

Poems  and  Discourses,  Norris, 
283. 

Poevis  and  Songs,  Flatman,  277. 

Poems  and  Translations,  Stanley, 
231,  265. 

Poems  both  English  and  latin, 
Milton,  236,  237,  261,  263. 

Poems,  Elegies,  Paradoxes,  and 
Sonnets,  King,  277. 

Poems  of  Carew,  xii,  246,  252; 
Philips,  279;  Shirley,  231,  265; 
Waller,  247. 

Poems  on  Several  Occasions,  Cot- 
ton, 275  ;  Davenant,  279  ;  Roch- 
ester, 28 1  ;   Prior,  286. 

Poeins  upon  Several  Occasions, 
Milton,  274  ;   Waller,  247,  264. 

Poems,  with  the  Muses'  Looking 
Glass,  Randolph,  247. 

Poems,  with  the  Tenth  Satire  of 
Juvenal,  Vaughan,  265. 

Poetry  and  prose  distinguished, 
Ixii. 

Poetry,  degeneracy  of  taste  in, 
xxi,  xxxiii,  Ixviii,  Ixix  ;  influence 
of  Spenser,  xv-xviii,  of  Jonson, 
viii-xix,  of  Donne,  xix,  xx  ;  sec- 
ular, xxxiv-xlii,  religious,  xlii- 
lix ;  at  the  Restoration,  lix, 
later  decline  of,  Ixvii. 

Poets,  Secular,  side  with  the  king, 
xxiii ;  tribute  to  Jonson,  xxi, 
xxii  ;  '  metaphysical,'  xxiv,  xxv  ; 
'  rhetorical,'   xxvii  ;    devotional, 


not  of  one  sect  or  party,  Iviii ; 
of  the  old  and  new  manner,  Ixiv. 

Polyolbion,  The,  xvi,  244,  245. 

Pope,  Alexander,  xiii,  xxvi;  quoted, 
xxix;  xl,  liv,  Ixi;  follows  Jon- 
son and  Dryden  in  subject- 
matter,  Ixii  ;  his  plan  for  a  his- 
tory of  English  poetry,  Ixv  ;  Ixvi, 
231,  237,  23S,  249,  286. 

Porter's  Madrigals  and  Airs,  230. 

Prior,  Matthew,  liv,  Ixviii,  234,  286. 

Propertius,  274. 

Psahns  of  David,  Paraphrases 
upon  the,  xliii,  249. 

Purcell,  Dr.,  286,  287. 

Puritanism,  x  ;  effect  of,  on  poetry, 
xlv. 

Puttenham's  Art  of  English  Poesie, 
xxvii,  241. 

Quarles,  Francis,  xi,  xxxiii  ;  his 
contemporary  popularity,  xliv, 
xlvii  ;  xlv-xlvii ;  contrasted  with 
Wither,  xlviii ;  his  ingenuity  and 
use  of  conceit,  xlix  ;  quoted,  ib.  ; 
248,  249,  258. 

Queen's  Masque,  The,  244. 

Raleigh,  Sir  Walter,  260. 

Randolph,  Thomas,  xx,  xxiii,  Iv, 
Ixv,  235,  246,  265. 

Religious  poetry,  x;  of  Carew, 
xxxiv  ;  of  Herrick,  ib.,  liii ;  in- 
fluence of  the  Psalms  on,  xlii ; 
EHzabethan  and  Seventeenth 
Century,  contrasted,  xlv;  of 
Herbert,  xlvi,  1  ;  Milton,  the 
highest  exponent  of,  xlvii,  lix ; 
Biblical  paraphrases,  xlvii ; 
Quarles  and  Wither,  ib.,  xlix  ; 
Sandys,  1  ;  Crashaw,  li-liii ;  later 


312 


INDEX    TO   INTRODUCTION  AND   NOTES. 


paraphrases  and  epics,  liv ;  Mar- 
veil,  his  religious  pastorals,  ib. ; 
Vaughan,  Iv-lvii  ;  not  confined 
to  one  sect  or  party,  Iviii. 

Restoration,  Literature  at  the,  lix- 
Ixi,  Ixiii. 

Rhetoric  a  basis  of  artistic  pleas- 
ure, xiii. 

'  Rhetorical  poets,'  The,  xxvii, 
xxxiii. 

Rival  Friends,  The,  239. 

Rochester,  Earl  of,  Ixviii,  281,  2S2, 
283. 

Rojas,  Fernando  de,  239. 

Rolliad,  The,  284. 

Rondeau,  The,  284. 

Ronsard,  Pierre  de,  273. 

Rossetti,  Dante  Gabriel,  270. 

Rota,  Bernadino,  277. 

Ruff  head's  Life  of  Pope,  Ixv. 

Ruskin,  Mr.,  Ixiii. 

Saintsbury,  Professor,  Elizabethan 
Literature,  252,  267  ;  Seven- 
teenth Century  Lyrics,  253,  268, 

279,  282,  284 ;  ed.  of  Scott's 
Dryden,  283,  285. 

Salmasis,  Lyrian  and  Sylvia,  2.11. 

Sandys,  George,  xxxiv,  xxxvi,  xliii, 
xlv  ;  his  scriptural  paraphrases, 
1,  Ixv ;  his  formal  nature,  ib. ; 
alleged  importance  in  the  history 
of  the  heroic  couplet,  ib.,  249. 

Scott,  Sir  Walter,  his  ed.  of  Dry- 
den, 280,  283,  285. 

Second  Part  of  Mr.  Waller'' s  Poems, 
The,  2S4. 

Secular  Masque,  The,  28C. 

Sedley,    Sir    Charles,    Ixviii,    260, 

280,  281. 
Selindra,  280. 


Seventeenth  Century  literature,  ix- 
XV ;  contrasted  with  Elizabethan, 
ix-xii,  xlv,  xlvi ;  its  limited 
range,  xi,  xiii ;  fanciful  character, 
xii,  xxvii ;  use  of  conceit,  xxviii, 
xxxii ;  secular  poetry  of,  xxxiv- 
xlii ;  devotional  poetry  of,  xlii- 
lix. 

Shakespeare,  x,  xi-xiii,  xx,  xiii,  Ixi, 
230»  233,  234,  236,  240,  241,  243, 
245,  246,  255,  261,  262,  266,  27 1 , 
272,  275,  279,  282,  284. 

Shelley,  xiii,  liii,  236,  264. 

Shepherds''  Holiday,  The,  229. 

Sherburne,  Sir  Edward,  lix,  257, 
265,  272,  273. 

Shirley,  James,  xx,  xxii  ;  author- 
ship confused  with  Carew,  231, 
232 ;   247,  266. 

Sidney,  Sir  Philip,  xxi,  xxvii, 
xxxiii,  xliii,  248,  259. 

Silex  Scintillans,  i<ciC),  275. 

Silisio,  Mariano,  247. 

Skeat,  Professor,  236. 

Smith,  Stafford,  his  Miisica  Anti- 
gua, 230. 

Song  Books,  xx. 

Songs  and  Other  Poems,  A.  Brome, 
278. 

Songs  of  the  Drama,  xx. 

Sonnet,  Discontinuance  of  the, 
xxii ;  devotional  sequences  of 
the,  xlvii ;  Milton's  use  of  the, 
xliii. 

Southey,  Robert,  Ixiv. 

Southwell,  Robert,  xlv. 

Spanish  Friar,  The,  283. 

.Spenser,  Edmund,  xi,  xv ;  his  in- 
fluence, xvi-xix,  xxxiii,  xlv,  Ixv, 
Ixvi,  236,  237,  243-246. 

Spenserianism,  xv-xviii,  Ixvii ;  its 


INDEX    TO   INTRODUCTION  AND   NOTES. 


313 


influence   on    poetry  of   classic 

type,  Ixvii. 
Sprat,  Dr.  T.,  Ixiv. 
Stafford,  Anthony,  246. 
Stanley,  Thomas,  Iv,  lix,  266,  273. 
Steps  to  the  Temple,  li,  26 r,  262. 
Strafford,  Earl  of,  259,  260. 
Suckling,     Sir     John,    xiii,    xxiv, 

xxxiii,  246,  251,  253,  260,  267. 
Stents  Darling,  The,  229. 
Swinburne,  Mr.,  244. 
Sylva,  Cowley,  250. 
Sylvester,  Joshua,  241,  243. 

Tabley,  Lord  de,  251. 
Tetnple,  The,  xlvi,  1,  li,  241. 
Tennyson,  Lord,  231,  265,  273. 
Tertullian,  xliii,  274. 
Thucydides,  236. 
Townsend,  Aurelian,  xx,  239. 
Trench,  Archbishop,  269. 
Troilus  and  Cressida,  Dryden,  282. 
Trumbull,  W.  B.,  ed.  of  Crashaw, 

237,  258,  26S. 
Tupper,  M.  F.,  xliv. 
■Tyrannic  Love,  281. 

Ueberweg's  History  of  Philosophy, 

xxxi. 
Ulrici,  Professor,  xi. 

Vaughan,  Henry,  XV ;  quoted,  xxx, 
Ivi ;  xxxiii,  xlv,  xlvii,  liv  ;  a 
recluse,  Iv ;  his  likeness  to 
Wordsworth,  ib.,  Ivi ;  love  of 
nature,  Ivi ;  seriousness,  halting 
execution,  realism,  ib.;  mysti- 
cism and  intellectuality,  Ivii; 
Iviii,  lix,  255,  265,  269,  275,  279. 

Vaughan,  Thomas,  265. 

Vers  de  sociite,  justification  of,  xii. 


xiii;  defined,  xxxix;  Carew  and, 
//'.;  Waller  a  follower  of  Carew 
in  the  practice  of,  Ixvii ;   Suck- 
ling's, 251. 
Virgil,  245,  267,  273. 

Waller,  Edmund,  his  contact  with 
earlier  poetry,  xxii;  xxiii,  xxvi, 
xxxiv;  indebtedness  to  Herrick, 
xl  ;■  quoted,  xli ;  devotional 
verse,  liv;  long  career,  Ix ;  not 
the  originator  of  the  new  poetry, 
Ixvi;  indebtedness  to  Carew  and 
Jonson,  Ixvii;  real  place,  ib.; 
freedom  of  his  early  verse,  230 ; 
231,  247;  ecHtions  of,  248;  250, 
264,  265. 

Walpole,  Horace,  282. 

Walton,  Izaak,  quoted,  xlvi;  Ixiv, 
241.  275-277,  279. 

Ward,  Professor  A.  W.,  232,  281. 

Ward's  English  Poets,  xxv. 

Warton,  Thomas,  236,  243,  244. 

Weaver,  Thomas,  267. 

Wharton,  Anne,  Marchioness  of, 
Ixvii. 

William  III,  283,  286. 

Wilmot,  John.     See  Rochester. 

Wilson,  Dr.  John,  his  Cheerful 
Airs,  XX,  235,  267. 

Wilson,  John,  the  dramatist,  Ixviii. 

Wit,  xxvii-xxx. 

Wither,  George,  xi,  xvi ;  contrasted 
with  Quarles,  xliv;  his  devo- 
tional miscellanies,  xlvii;  free- 
dom from  figure,  xlix  ;  Iviii,  241, 
249,  256,  257,  279. 

Wils  Interpreter,  230,  267. 

Wifs  Recreations,  xxi,  xl,  230,  233- 
235'  254,  258,  259,  264,  265, 
273- 


314 


INDEX    TO  INTRODUCTION  AND  NOTES. 


Witty  Fail-  One,  The,  231. 
Wood,  Anthony  a,  239,  266. 
Wood,  Professor,  Ix. 
Wordsworth,    xliv,    Ivi,   231,    260, 
269,  275. 


Works  of  Celebrated  Authors,  283. 
Works  of  Congreve,  286. 
Works  of  Edmund  Waller,  247. 
Wotton,  Sir  Henry,  260. 
Wyatt,  Sir  Thomas,  xliii,  284. 


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